


Inspire Me

by Satine



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Eventual Smut, Idol!Minho, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Songwriting, Teacher-Student Relationship, inspired in that snl eungyo sketch, jongkey is endgame, professor!jonghyun, side jongho, side ontae, student!kibum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine/pseuds/Satine
Summary: Kim Kibum wishes to learn how to write lyrics, but the famous and award-winner lyricist Jonghyun takes in female students only. That's not a problem though, for it takes Kibum only a dress and a wig to become Key—an enigmatic girl who won't take no for an answer when it comes to Professor Jonghyun.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Jonghyun, Kim Jonghyun/Kim Kibum | Key, Lee Jinki | Onew/Lee Taemin
Comments: 32
Kudos: 60





	1. Prologue

Jonghyun stared openly at the girl sat across him, taking in her sharp features—her cheekbones were specially outstanding, too bony and prominent on her distinct face. She didn't own a striking beauty, but there was something captivating on her appearance. Despite that, she was wearing way more makeup than necessary, which made Jonghyun suspect she had low self-esteem.

Still, right now the girl was reciprocating his gaze with equal intensity, and with an unexpected confidence—he was used to seeing his students flinch when they met his watchful look, however, the black-haired girl hadn't averted her eyes from his not even once since coming into his office. This peaked Jonghyun's interest—all students who had come his way in the past making her same request lacked this cool stance.

"What's your name, again?" He asked, faking aloofness.

"People call me Key," she answered coyly, Daegu dialect coloring her words.

"That's not your real name, I suppose," Jonghyun raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Obviously," Key's smile was playful. "When do our lessons begin, professor?" Again, there it was—that assumptive face. Irresistible.

"Come back tomorrow, after the first class in the afternoon. I'm not going easy on you," he challenged, leaning back on his chair, and folded his arms behind his head. That pose gave him out a respectable look, showing his clear intent of intimating Key.

She didn't bite his bait, "See you tomorrow." She then stood up to her full height in order to give the man a ninety-degree bow before walking towards the door.

Jonghyun just seemed to notice something, "Key?" He called her when she had just reached the threshold. She turned to him, eyeing him curiously. "Do not wear high heels when I'm in the same room as you ever again."

All authority present in his voice was drowned out by her amused laughter, "Sure, professor." She flashed him a mischievous grin before finally exiting the room.

Yes, Key should be _enough_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started to write this when I had just gotten into k-pop 6 years ago. I dropped this six months into the story, when I had around 10 chapters ready. So much has happened in the meantime—such as Jonghyun's suicide—, but I'm willing to resume this story if someone's interested in it.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun sucks at concealing his amusement, and Kibum finds out wearing high heels hurts like hell.

Kim Kibum hated backing down. He hated giving up, he hated leaving something—no matter how little—unfinished. Nonetheless, right now he was very tempted to calling off his own plan before even starting it— _stop being such a coward, Kibum, what are you, a girl?_ He laughed bitterly at his own ironic remark; humor didn't help to lighten his mood at all. And neither did Taemin's "encouraging" words, "What if he finds out? I bet you'd be expelled, hyung."

"Taemin, shut up, please," he hissed, although a hint of nervousness could be heard on his voice, and resumed combing his wig—made of human hair, of course. It had cost him a fortune, but Kibum couldn't help himself; he didn't do _anything_ sloppily. The spicy price of the wig seemed to be the perfect fuel to keep himself going—and his frugal mind would never allow all that money go to waste. Now satisfied with his wig, Kibum got out of his room.

"What do you think?" He asked, giving the blond a wide smile, just like the ones seen on beauty contests. Taemin gaped at his friend, and if he hadn't been sitting on the living room couch at that moment, he would have probably fallen backwards in disbelief.

"Holy. Fuck," Taemin enunciated each word slowly, forgetting completely about the variety show he had just been watching on TV. He knew Kibum was a total pro when it came to makeup and dressing up, but now his hyung had reached a whole new level—he executed some sort of trick that directed Taemin's eyes to features of his that he didn't normally pay attention to. Seeing Kibum wearing no eyeliner was unusual, but it helped highlighting his sharp cheekbones and his plump lips. Plus, it got him the feeling that Kibum had a whole different semblance. "I take back what I said, you are so going to fool him," the clear assurance on Taemin's tone filled Kibum with enough courage to proceed with his plan.

"Why, thank you," he placed his right hand over his flat chest in a mocking manner, blinking his eyes too many times in order to show off his long fake eyelashes. Walking over to his room to change clothes, Kibum couldn't help it, "I'll be back in a sec, honey," he joked in a high-pitched voice, leaning for a moment on the doorjamb. Taemin blushed almost instantly, and Kibum let out a teasing laugh—it seemed that the blond boy didn't know how to deal with anyone in skirts, be it a boy or a girl.

Kibum took his time picking his clothes—it was a difficult task, for he had to compose a look which hid his masculine traits, and still manage to have an appeal to his professor's eyes. He ended up wearing a dress that covered most of his figure, and a pair of black stockings—Kibum didn't want to show too much of his body at once; the last thing he wished was to give out a "promiscuous" vibe. He had even gone through the trouble of buying _small_ fake boobs with the purpose of creating a "family girl" image to himself.

He walked back to the living room with uneasy steps—he still had to get used to walking in high heels. Taemin's face got even more dumbfounded, which Kibum had deemed impossible. Although he wasn't displaying much of his fair skin, Kibum didn't look a nun-like girl—he was actually damn sexy, but Taemin knew better than to vocalize his thought. "Hyung, with all due respect, you can make anyone kneel before you when dressed like that."

"I already accomplish that on a daily basis," Kibum rolled his eyes, smiling playfully at his own cockiness. Taemin reacted by throwing a cushion at him, "Hey, how can you treat a lady like that?!" He stumbled a little on his high heels while dodging the object, but managed not to fall face first on the floor. Pretending nothing had happened, Kibum grabbed a pink purse that was on the coffee table by its handle. He now looked more certain of what he was about to do; his every move gave out a confident aura.

"Good luck," Taemin wished him, no trace of wisecrack left on his words.

"I don't need it," Kibum grinned before leaving. He could still hear Taemin's unrestrained laughter after closing the door.

* * *

Kibum's walk to the university campus was interesting, to say the least—even though he was wearing a rather chaste dress, he could still feel men's stares boring into his figure. It was undeniable that he tended to drink in every bit of attention he got, but people should set boundaries according to politeness—a man had even run a red light because of him, for God's sake!

Truth be told, Kibum couldn't wait to cause the same effect on Professor Kim Jonghyun. Of course he didn't mean to seduce his professor or anything whatsoever; after all, he was a righteous person. He did intend to deceive the man though; for there was no other option available—it wasn't his fault that Jonghyun preferred to take in female disciples only. The man received and rejected requests all the time, and he had never bothered clarifying what his criteria were when judging the people who asked guidance of him—Kibum had seen him dismiss both guys and girls, and even top-grade students.

Kibum wasn't bragging or anything, but he hoped Jonghyun didn't take him in for his looks alone—he was a truly fan of the man's work, and it would be a great delusion to find out he was such a shallow person. Still, a piece of Kibum feared Jonghyun was a pervert of some kind due to that quirk of his, yet the professor had a genius for writing lyrics. And Kibum had decided on trying out lyric-writing, and he would learn it from the best.

He soon got to the university's main building, where was settled all professors' offices and all courses' departments. He knew Jonghyun's office location by heart—Kibum was no stalker, however he spent a couple of weeks making up his mind on whether fulfilling his plan or chickening out, and in the meantime he wasted some minutes walking along the hallway in which was located said professor's office. Kibum had only around a year before finally getting his degree on musical acting, and it was now or never.

With his mind wrapped in this thought, Kibum didn't hesitate knocking on the wooden door, "Professor?" He gasped right away, upon hearing his own voice—his _manly_ voice. Kibum didn't have a deep, low voice, but it wasn't exactly _feminine_ ; "Professor?" He asked once again, more to try out a different voice tone—he avoided shrilling; that wasn't elegant at all—, and his Daegu dialect managed to slip through this single word.

"Come on in," Kibum heard through the door, and he complied promptly, turning the doorknob before him. He stopped for a moment to take in his surroundings—the walls were salmon-colored, but little of them could be seen, for there were bookshelves filled with books in front of almost all of them; a wooden desk was set in the center of the room, in between two chairs. Sat on one of them was Kim Jonghyun.

Kibum only knew the man was considered attractive because Nicole insisted on keeping him up-to-date with campus gossip—he had long ago stopped checking men out. Despite not buying hearsay often, he could understand the girls' never ending compliments—Jonghyun's face was indeed _pleasant_ , even with those big square glasses perked up his nose and that dinossaur-like appearance.

Said man was eyeing him intently, one eyebrow raised as if questioning something. Oh, yes, Kibum had been staring at the room for some time now, and hadn't said a thing. That probably seemed weird. Yeah. "Hello, professor," he mustered all his acting skills into giving a bright smile that hid his anxiety.

"Hello," Jonghyun greeted him—her?—with a small nod. "May I help you?" He asked courteously, though there was an interrogation look on his face.

Kibum took a deep breath with the purpose of easing his nerves, but it was in vain. "Yes, you can," he sounded bold, even though that wasn't quite how he felt at the moment. "I'm Key," he had decided to use his old nickname—God forbid that Jonghyun ever called him out and Kibum didn't answer because he wasn't used to his fake name. "I'd like you to accept me as your disciple."

Jonghyun pursed his lips at his words, not bothering to hide his contempt—he didn't seem surprised at the request, just… Apathetic. "Why? What makes you think I'll say yes to you, when I've said no to so many before you?"

Kibum was taken aback by the blunt question and by the sudden change on Jonghyun's voice—he had sounded so polite at first, but now Kibum could hear annoyance on each word of his. He wasn't going back, nonetheless—he hadn't gotten in drag simply to take a walk around the campus and be flirted at. Kibum was resolute in leaving the office only after obtaining Jonghyun's yes.

"It would be stupid not giving it a try just because the chances are low," he shrugged, and only then he noticed that he was still standing, static, close to the door. His previous apprehension was quickly replaced by determination as he walked over to the vacant chair across Jonghyun, and sat down. Wow, he could already feel pain blossoming in his feet due to his high heels. How did girls put up with that?

"Optimistic, aren't you?" Jonghyun regarded him with an unexpressive look—he didn't say it mockingly or sarcastically; he was merely stating a fact. "Again, why becoming a disciple? Why learning lyric-writing?" He narrowed his eyes at his own words, and then Kibum knew that these questions were the heart of the matter.

He decided to go with his gut, "Because." His voice soared through the room—Kibum liked that, he liked to be free to speak his hometown dialect again. Why had he concealed it for so long? Oh, right, people made fun of him when he came to Seoul. Taemin had even called him a hick when they first met— _that brat_ …

Kibum's random thoughts were interrupted by Jonghyun's expectant gaze, "Because…?" He gestured towards Kibum to keep on speaking.

"Just because," Kibum shrugged again, getting more daring.

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at his tenacity, but the subtle quirk done by his mouth didn't go unnoticed by Kibum. "What are you, five? 'Because' is not a proper answer and you know that."

The dark-haired "girl" smiled sweetly at him, though there was clear presumptuousness in it. "What did you expect me to say? I'm not going to recite my love for conveying feelings into rhymes that will be sung and touch people's hearts," Jonghyun opened his mouth to interrupt Kibum—he had probably taken offense at the other's words—, but he kept on anyway. "I won't do that because I can't. I can't because I don't know how to. And I expect you to teach me that—to teach me how to turn my thoughts into words. Into music."

Kibum stared blatantly at Jonghyun after finishing his brief monologue. The professor seemed to be trying to school his face, but Kibum caught a glimpse of an amazed look before he did it properly. He decided to push a little bit, "Please, _hyu_ -oppa," his dialect extended the honorific.

Jonghyun blinked for a short moment, and licked his lips before finally speaking, "What's yout major?"

 _You're avoiding giving me a final answer, eh?_ , Kibum smiled inwardly. "I don't study," he lied. He couldn't risk saying the truth and having his academic history searched by Jonghyun. Especially when he had one class with the man this semester, and he preferred his tracks to lead as far away from himself as possible.

"You don't study," Jonghyun frowned at that. "What do your parents think about that?"

"They don't mind their child is pursuing her dream. My family favors eagerness over diploma," what Kibum said was only half-true—it was the truth, nonetheless.

Jonghyun nodded quickly before stating, "So, you have much free time."

"Kind of…" Kibum hesitated. He sometimes struggled to keep up with university classes, dance practices and vocal training, but it wasn't a good idea to tell Jonghyun that, especially when he was about to say yes.

"You have nothing else to do," Jonghyun said point-blank rather rudely, "So if you take this lightly, I won't hesitate cutting you out."

"Is that a yes?" Kibum's eyes were practically shining due to happiness.

Jonghyun appeared to be untouched to his enthusiasm, "What's your name, again?"

It was a yes.

* * *

Kibum took a bus to his apartment—his feet were so hurt that there was no way he would be able to walk the whole distance back home. Yes, maybe it would be smart consenting to Jonghyun’s high heels "veto", but Kibum knew the man had only established that due to his _lack_ _of height_ —his low stature was apparent even when standing on the classroom stage during his lectures. Lips curved in an amused smile at this thought, he opened the entrance door.

Taemin was still home, head leaned on Jinki’s right shoulder while watching TV; Jinki seemed to be more entertained with curling a strand of Taemin's hair around his ring finger than with the TV show itself.

“Whoa, Kibum, what’s that?!” Jinki asked, startled for seeing Kibum in drag for the first time. Taemin grimaced at his sudden move, but kept his head on the same spot on the other’s shoulder. Noticing his boyfriend unconcern, Jinki turned to him, “You knew about that?” A hint of betrayal could be heard on his tone.

“Sure,” Taemin shrugged and sat back properly on the couch, sensing Jinki’s restlessness. “He spent the whole morning dressing up while I was here,” he added nonchalantly, and turned to Kibum, “So, did you get it? Are you his disciple now?” Taemin asked cheerfully.

Kibum winked playfully at his question, speaking with the same voice he had used during his conversation with Jonghyun, “Of course he couldn’t resist me.” Taemin giggled at him, blushing a little upon hearing his friend's feminine tone. By his side, Jinki was displaying a disappointed expression at both of them. “Cut it out, Jinki, I told you I would do it,” Kibum rolled his eyes.

Jinki was a pretty easygoing guy, however, sometimes it was as if he turned “mother mode” on, and started acting protective towards everybody. Kibum blamed Taemin for that—him and his _youthfulness_.

“Anyway, I’ll take a shower and take off this instrument of torture,” Kibum pointed jokingly to his high heels, and started withdrawing to the bathroom, not feeling like listening to Jinki's lecture.

Jinki ignored Kibum's antics, “A piece of advice: back down while you can. Jonghyun isn’t one to mess up with.” His well-intended words fell on deaf ears, for Kibum had already walked out of the room.

* * *

Kibum himself didn't know for sure what he had expected, but he was certain this wasn't it. There was a mop on his right hand, and a bucket filled with water on his left one. He turned his face to Jonghyun, throwing him an innocent look. "There's a restroom in your office," he stated dumbly.

"Yes, there is," the professor nodded, and Key feared that Jonghyun was having way too much fun seeing him clueless. He gave a step aside, so that Key could have a full view of said room. "And I want you to clean it _at least_ twice a week. Understood?"

There was a private restroom in Jonghyun's office. Kim Jonghyun had his own restroom. Key's attempt at restraining himself from judging the man failed instantly; he was already suspecting that Jonghyun was a bit of a _prissy_. This aside, why was he supposed to clean the restroom? "Why should I clean it?" He tried to sound quizzical only, but there was evident petulance on his question.

Jonghyun gave him a small smile, yet an ironic one at that. "You have a long path to walk before finally starting to write lyrics," he spoke in riddles, and Key contained himself from rolling his eyes.

"So you take in disciples to use them as cleaning ladies, that's great," words soaked in sarcasm left his mouth, and Key regretted saying it right away— _please, professor, don't ask me to leave_ —, therefore he was shocked at Jonghyun's reaction. It was for a second only, but Key knew it wasn't his mind playing him tricks—Jonghyun had indeed _smirked_ at his insolent reply.

Catching Key's watchful look at his face, the professor walked back to his desk, making the distance between them grow bigger. "If I were you, I wouldn't complain. I'll make sure to give you more chores later on," he didn't hide his smile this time, clearly indulging to his own amusement. "By the way, the door is right over there in case you feel like quitting."

Key felt insulted at the man's affront, so he quickly brought himself to do as he was told—Key had come this far, he wouldn't stop now. But this thought didn't stop him from grumbling under his breath, "Oppa, why you gotta be so mean?"

And Key was a hundred percent sure that he heard Jonghyun chuckle quietly.

* * *

Kibum was feeling pain in muscles that he wasn't even aware of their existence. His daily dancing routine prevented him from having strong body aches when exercising more than usual, but Jonghyun had outworn him to the bone with his requests. Kibum could swear that he had cleaned the man's office more thoroughly than he ever did his own bedroom. And it was awful to know he should oblige to the professor's every order, for he needed something from the man.

"You may now say 'I told you so,'" Kibum sighed dramatically as he entered the kitchen, finding Jinki searching for something in the fridge.

The older one froze automatically upon these words; his previous task forgotten. "Why? Did he find out?" Jinki asked, clearly troubled.

"No, thank God," Kibum said promptly, holding back a relieved smile after noticing his friend's worry—it meant that Jinki had already let go of their little disagreement. "Jonghyun made me clean his whole office though. He didn't teach me a thing about lyric-writing, hyung," he pouted childishly.

Jinki laughed at that, earning a light slap on his shoulder from Kibum. "I've heard lots about Jonghyun, and one thing is sure: he's a genius at what he does. I mean, how many lyricists are famous like him nowadays? People don't care about them any more than they do about songwriters," he smirked, and Kibum took notice of something akin to sulkiness on his face.

"What kind of rumors have you heard?" Kibum asked, interested in knowing more about his professor.

"I'm not telling you. Office gossip is ridiculous, and I don't believe any of it," Jinki got serious. "As I was saying, Jonghyun is a great professional, so you shouldn't give up just because his modus operandi is unusual," there was such approval on Jinki's tone that it dispelled every anger that Kibum felt towards Jonghyun for making him clean his office. "I should ask you to consider calling off all of this," Jinki gestured to Kibum in girls clothes, "and having me teach you musical composition, but I know how hard it's talking you out of something when you set your mind to it," there was praise on his voice, and now Kibum allowed himself to smile widely.

"Composition is all about math, it sucks," the younger joked, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

"Well, it pays for my part of the rent, so you shouldn't complain," Jinki answered, resuming his search inside the fridge.

Kibum frowned at that, "What are you looking for?"

"You know what's funny?..." Jinki closed the fridge's door, turning to Kibum with his eyes narrowed. "I could swear that there was leftover chicken in here yesterday."

Kibum's eyes widened comically after remembering what he had had for lunch earlier in the day. "Hyung, let's eat out. My treat," he suggested right away, moving off the countertop in order to head out to the door.

Jinki snickered briefly at Kibum's agitation, but followed him anyway, getting his coat on the way out. He had his hand on the doorknob when he realized something, "Er, Kibum?"

"Yes?"

"You're still dressed as a girl."


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's more to Jonghyun than meets the eye, and Kibum has a fangirl attack.

He would never understand Kim Jonghyun—Kibum decided to accept this truth after two weeks in the man's office. Decoding his personality was like peeling an onion (silly metaphor, yet fitting): there were layers and more layers revolving its core, making it unreachable. The oddest of it all was that Jonghyun didn't seem to do it consciously; Kibum had kept close watch on him throughout his staying, and it simply happened that the man often got himself in deep thought. It was understandable; after all, artists had a tendency to shut themselves out to the outer world, for no one was supposedly able to comprehend what went on in their minds.

Not one to give up easily, Kibum insisted on trying to figure Jonghyun out. At first, he assumed the professor was a strict one, but less than ten minutes in Jonghyun's class was enough to prove his thought incorrect. Kibum's picture of a rigid professor was someone who looked grumpy when teaching (after all, it was work; you _shouldn't_ enjoy work), and asked for silence every five minutes simply because they liked to listen to their own voice. Jonghyun was exactly the opposite—he started his classes with a wide smile on his face, and he greeted all students with a _genuine_ good afternoon. It was evident to everyone that he was having a good time.

Jonghyun put his heart into teaching in such way that his love for it could be seen by anyone. His students weren't afraid of voicing their opinions and asking questions during lecture, and it actually surprised Kibum—Jonghyun was teaching a mere elective, and people showed as much interest in it as in any main subject. Moreover, he felt clearly amused by Kibum's playful replies, and no rigid professor would allow being spoken to like that.

Kibum scratched "strict" out of his mental list, moving on to the next item: respectable. This adjective came to his mind after noticing that Jonghyun didn't _need_ to demand silence during his lectures, for he captivated each and every one of his students with his voice alone. However, respectable people were usually serious and distant. Jonghyun was always there with his easygoing smile, and it made him a pretty welcoming person—there were still boundaries though.

One of his most known barriers—his office; Jonghyun had broken it when he took Kibum in. Students didn't often go to Jonghyun's office, but when they did, Kibum could feel their curious looks at him. Some were evidently jealous of him for having accomplished becoming a disciple of the professor's, and he felt like laughing at that—if only they knew what he had gone through in order to achieve it… Kibum wouldn't deny it though: he felt a tingle of self-pride for his successful plan. Maybe he was a bit conceited, so what?

Kibum would never confess it out loud, however he speculated on the hypothesis of Jonghyun being a pervert. This thought came to him when he was first told about the whole I-only-take-in-female-disciples thing, but he never truly pondered it before catching Jonghyun's suggestive gaze aimed at his behind. It was Key's first time wearing a not-so-long dress with no stockings on—he had even gone through the trouble of shaving his legs—, and part of the back of his thighs were visible, because the dress had skirted up while he was standing on his toes, trying to reach for the top of a window to clean it with a rag.

A peek at his reflection on the windowpane showed him Jonghyun staring at his backside. "I saw that," Kibum warned in a mildly angry tone, repeating the same words the man had told him a few days ago, after catching him red-handed on Instagram when he should be cleaning. And although he sounded normal—as normal as a girl sounded when being checked out—, Kibum was actually dead scared of Jonghyun looking too much at his groin area and, consequently, finding out he was a male.

After that episode, Kibum started to see Jonghyun through watchful eyes during his cleaning, and he realized that the man had always been observing him—it was a different look though. It was as if Jonghyun was searching for _something_ in him, in his clothes, in his body; it felt somewhat like a _medical_ look. Kibum tried not to shy away from the other's gaze, but it was hard—it held such intensity that he felt like he was the most endearing creature of the whole world.

At the same time, Kibum sensed that this wasn't Jonghyun eating him up with his eyes—this was him admiring his _view_ ; it wasn't a vicious gaze. Sometimes Jonghyun had such an _inspired_ look on his face that Kibum sort of expected the man to grab a pen and start scribbling rhymes right away; however, this hadn't happened _yet_ , and a small part of him felt disappointed.

Anyhow, Kibum ended up crossing out "pervert" from his mental list after realizing Jonghyun's overly polite treatment towards his female students during the few times in which they came to his office asking for help. Some of them acted excessively seductively when around him, crossing legs more often than necessary, curling strands of hair around a finger, and daring to wear low cut blouses in order to catch Jonghyun's attention. However, none of it seemed to affect him—actually, he didn't even appear to notice their efforts. When first witnessing it, Kibum had furrowed his eyebrows in a mix of surprise and confusion—yes, he knew it was an improper thing to do, but, _wow_ , this was a great pair of legs to look at. Was Jonghyun really not even trying to get a sneak peek?

Taking into account Jonghyun's looks aimed at Key and his respectful demeanor when in the presence of women, the only logical thing a puzzled Kim Kibum could do was throw his mental list in the garbage.

For there was no way someone like Kim Jonghyun could be summed up in one word only.

* * *

Going in and out of Jonghyun's office all the time was driving Kibum crazy—he had memorized Jonghyun's whole class schedule so he could go to his own classes as Kibum without having the man notice. Changing clothes was a nuisance which had to be tolerated; however, removing makeup was far worse—and he _needed_ eyeliner as much as _air_ when dressed as male; Kim Kibum would never be found out in the open with his eyes _bare_. He had been doing this for less than four weeks and he already found himself in need of some vacation.

One of his favorite teachers told him off for showing late to class, and Kibum, the always perfect student, felt his heart shatter while hearing his professor's harsh words. What could he do though? When he set his plan in motion, he was aware of its consequences—and Kibum wasn't talking about the risk of being caught and expelled; he knew since day one that he would have to juggle priorities.

And so he would do.

~

"Kibum-ah, do you remember that musical I auditioned for? I got a part! Will you help me memorize my lines?"

"I'm sorry, Dana, I can't. I'm too busy with… Stuff."

~

"Wow, your voice is super hoarse, what happened?"

"Spend a whole day talking in a high-pitched tone and you'll find out."

"Hyung, you sound like a weird hick."

"What the hell, Taemin?!"

~

"Kibum, are you wearing lipstick?"

"What? Of course not, Woohyun. It must be some sort of light trick."

~

"They say raw eggs are good for your voice."

"Jinki-hyung, thanks for your advice, but I'll turn it down."

* * *

"You've been dusting the same shelf for over five minutes," a voice pulled Key from his daydreaming. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and pretended not to notice the way Jonghyun turned to the direction of the sound, while wearing a challenging expression on his face.

"You know, for a music professor you have almost no books regarding the subject," Key remarked absentmindedly, stopping his dusting for a moment in order to read the titles on the books spines. There were only a few Korean classics; the majority consisted of foreign works—some were pretty famous, such as Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, but they were mainly unknown.

"I keep all my music books back home," Jonghyun answered without bothering to raise his eyes from the document he was reading.

"So you prefer to study at home? What about writing songs? Where do you do it?" Key spilled his questions all at once—during his four days by Jonghyun's side, one of the first (important) things that he took notice of was how talkative the professor got after teaching his classes, so it was only fair for Key to make the most of it now, right?

Jonghyun finally set the document in his hands down on his desk, blinking for a moment before answering him properly, "I write songs when I feel like it. You know how inspiration is a darling who shows up only when she wishes to," even though this was spoken in a frustrated way, they both grasped the underlying adoration of his words.

Key leaned on a bookshelf, with his arms crossed and a small smile on his lips. Jonghyun's demeanor had changed completely with the mention of music—it was as if he was talking about his dearest thing in life. For the first time in his life, Key chose to stay silent—although his comments were always so meaningful, right now it was more amusing to listen to this _declaration of love_.

"I'm used to writing during nighttime, because I go to sleep late—that's one of the reasons why I don't teach in the morning. I have many novels because they inspire me," Jonghyun explained, and then he seemed to come to himself. As though he had disclosed too much, Jonghyun promptly resumed his reading, leaving no room for Key to speak up.

Nonetheless, Key was not one to shut up for real, "Oh, so 'Romeo and Juliet' inspired you to write 'Juliette'?" He asked, turning his back to the professor so he could go back to dusting.

"I should have known that you're a Four Seasons fan," Key wasn't facing Jonghyun, still, he knew the man had just rolled his eyes. "Juliette" was Jonghyun's greatest success as a lyricist, and he was probably fed up with people remembering him only because of this one melody.

"Actually, I don't like 'Juliette' that much. It's a pretty silly song in my opinion," Key said, popping his arm joints before moving on to the next bookshelf. Darn, there were still three left; it would take him some time to dust all of them. He heard the wheels of Jonghyun's revolving chair roll on the carpet, and Key turned to the man with a confused look, finding him wearing an expression that could be only described as mesmerized.

"Is that so?" He seemed to be pressing Key into speaking further.

"Of course," Key shrugged. "You didn't give your all on the lyrics; it sounded sort of shallow to me. If I remember correctly, it was one of your first songs after getting into SM, so it's understandable."

Jonghyun snickered at that, "Did you Google me?" Key threw him a disdainful glare, but he didn't waver, "You're the one who memorized my work."

"I got interested in your work after listening to 'Symptoms'," Key confessed, and he hated how he could feel his cheeks tingeing in a soft red.

"Really, 'Symptoms'?" Jonghyun raised an eyebrow doubtfully, and the beginning of a smile could be seen on his lips; an amused reply to Key's embarrassment. "Why this song?"

Key resumed his dusting once more—maybe getting some work done would ease the blush that colored his face. Still, he didn't avoid Jonghyun's inquisitive stare, giving him a matching gaze. "At first I had deemed it clichéd, but the melody itself was very catching, so I kept on listening to it. I mean, who _hasn't_ compared love to sickness? It wasn't innovative at all. But then I paid attention to a particular verse, and it was simply mind-blowing."

"Which verse?" Jonghyun asked, obvious curiosity on his words.

A short giggle erupted from Key, who had found Jonghyun's anxious reaction funny, but he soon got contemplative. "The one in which you set a paradox by saying that your feelings for the girl are a sickness, whereas she's also the medicine necessary to cure this same illness."

Jonghyun pursed his lips, as if absorbing the meaning behind Key's words. "It's gratifying to know that someone has such high regard for this song. I thought no one knew of its existence, because it was a B-side of a mini album that didn't go well in sales." He uttered in a low voice, as if ashamed of it.

Key clicked his tongue, feigning dismay in a mocking manner, "Maybe it would have sold more copies if the producers had chosen 'Symptoms' as the title song."

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at the praise, but Key knew he was secretly basking in it. "Flattery will get you nowhere," the man stated bluntly.

"There's no harm in trying," the younger retorted jokingly, although he had truly meant the compliment. The office fell in silence after that, which made Key displeased—this was it? Jonghyun was going to stop talking right when they had finally addressed lyric-writing? Frustrated, he started dusting the bookshelf harder than necessary.

"Give me your cell phone number," the professor said out of the blue, and Key was so surprised at the suddenness of the request that his duster fell from his right hand.

He composed himself quickly enough to give a smug answer, "It seems that flattery does affect you after all."

Jonghyun laughed shortly at the other's cockiness, all irony and no humor. "I need your number so I can order you around from far away," he stated in a bossy tone, getting his cell phone and handing it to Key.

The device was already set to the dial screen when he took it, typing his mobile number right away, "Here you are, oppa." Key left the cell phone on the desk, and retrieved his duster from the floor so that he resumed his previous task.

"Oppa? What happened to 'professor'?" Jonghyun questioned, though there was no real censure on his words. "You've been here for less than a week, don't get yourself too comfortable."

"Sorry, professor," although Key had bowed when saying that, his sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by any of them.

"I dislike your attitude, you may leave for the day," Jonghyun moved his hand in a disdainful way, as if shooing him away.

"What? Don't send me home right when we're talking about lyrics!" Key pouted childishly, and his spoiled behavior seemed to entertain the man.

"I'm giving you a break, you should thank me," he shrugged, pushing his glasses over his nose bridge to direct his full attention to the document before him.

Finally noticing that Jonghyun wasn't kidding him, Key bowed once more—with authentic respect this time—, and placed his duster on its designated spot inside the restroom cabinet. "Then I'll get going," he grabbed his purse on his way out. "Bye, professor," the title _might_ have been said with a hint of mockery.

"Don't forget your key, Key."

The younger ignored the professor's pun, turning on his heels to find him still reading. "What key?" He asked, confused—he was sure that he hadn't taken his apartment key out of his purse while in the room.

"The office key," Jonghyun answered matter-of-factly, pointing to said object on his desk. Key felt his heartbeat race almost instantly—it was more than a key; it meant Jonghyun intended to keep him around for real. He was about to thank Jonghyun for such a meaningful gesture, but the man didn't give him the chance to, "This way you'll be able to get here earlier than me, and leave everything clean by the time I come to teach."

The thank-you died in Key's throat, being replaced by disapproval, "You good-for-nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back with a new chapter. I'll try to update the story at least once a month ;)  
> These first chapters are important to establish Key's and Jonghyun's relationship, but I assure you that things will move on soon!  
> PS.: and yaaaass a lot of SHINee songs will be mentioned on the story!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun hates Kibum, and Kibum is in a serious relationship with strawberry ice cream.

Sweat beads gleamed on Key's forehead, making him frown uncomfortably— _argh_ , he hated sweating, it wasn't glamorous at all. This move caused the fluid to course through the creases on his face, and he stopped his current chore for a moment in order to wipe off the unpleasant sweat with his left forearm. Leaning against the broom he was holding onto, Key couldn't help but release a tired sigh—he was _so_ exhausted; his body needed a break. This minimum noise was enough to briefly cease the female voice that had been previously speaking in the background.

Upon the sudden silence, Key flashed an awkward smile towards Jonghyun and the student who was talking to him, as an apology of some sort for interrupting their conversation. He felt the girl stare daggers at him nonetheless, and he had to refrain himself from snorting in response to this not so subtle display of unwarranted aversion.

"Anyway, _as I was saying_... I listened to all love songs that you'd indicated last class, and they helped me a lot when writing the lyrics you asked for." The girl got a couple of paper sheets stapled together out of her purse, and put it on the desk before Jonghyun while wearing a prideful expression. "So, professor, here is my assignment."

The professor raised an eyebrow, not reacting as impressed at her doing as the girl expected him to, for there was a hint of discredit on his tone. "Already? I gave this task just yesterday. You know, writing is _re_ writing; you don't need to give me your first draft."

"Well, I am satisfied with it, so it isn't a draft, but the final version." The girl shrugged, and Key rolled his eyes at her words as he resumed sweeping the floor. She had obviously done her homework in a hurry with ulterior reasons—like getting Jonghyun's attention, for example. Actually, Key bet his whole allowance that she hadn't even written the lyrics herself; she had probably gotten them on the Internet.

Even though his lips were pursed in obvious disbelief, Jonghyun didn't object any further. "It can't be helped then; you're the first one to hand in the assignment, congratulations." His voice had no trace of emotion whatsoever, and Key restrained himself from laughing at that—Jonghyun was clearly being sarcastic, and the poor girl had no clue.

The man put the student's assignment inside one of the drawers, and proceeded to organize the papers on his desk. His moves halted abruptly when he noticed the girl still sat across him. "Do you have anything else to say?" Although these words were biting, Jonghyun said them in a polite manner with his "professor" voice.

The girl's face fell upon his inquiry, but she still managed to give him a fake, pleasing smile. "No, I'll take my leave. Thank you, professor." She stood up and bowed before leaving the office with indisposed steps. Key didn't miss the glare she aimed at him over her left shoulder as she passed through the door.

Once more alone with Jonghyun, Key considered pointing out how oblivious he was to his students' desire for attention, but he sensed that such remark wouldn't make the man happy. Plus, that was the perfect opportunity for Key to approach a more important matter, and in order to obtain the answers he wished for, he needed Jonghyun to be in a good mood. "So... You assigned one of your classes to write lyrics?" He feigned nonchalance at the topic, even though he was the one bringing it up.

"Yes, for Lyrics Interpretation," Key stopped his sweeping abruptly, but Jonghyun didn't notice, too engrossed in typing something on his laptop. "The students seem so absorbed in the subject, despite it being just an elective. Thought it might do them good learning something beyond the theory, you know? A homework that makes them think for themselves. And they must hand it in face to face here during this week, so that I get to know them."

Key silently thanked God for Jonghyun's habit of babbling at random times—such as now—, for he was too busy cursing himself inwardly to care replying to the professor's comments. Kibum missed one of Jonghyun's classes—one class _only_ —because he had asked Key to get his laundry back from a dry cleaner. At first he thought there was no problem—it was just an elective, after all—, but it looked like Kibum had forgotten to take into account fate's good will. Of course, at the only class he missed, Jonghyun assigned a special homework. Fantastic.

Even though the whole situation was more than enough to boil Kibum's blood and make him wish for Jonghyun's death, he smirked playfully at the man, "What about me?" He questioned, his grip around the broom stronger than necessary. Right, he couldn't express his anger because he wasn't himself right now—he was Key. And Key might be sly and sarcastic; however, she didn't mistreat her professor. (Since she needed something from him.) "I wanna write lyrics too. Are you leading me on so you don't spend money hiring a proper cleaning service?" Key pouted childishly, though there was a hint of soberness amid his Daegu dialect.

"Why, you clean like a professional. It would be a pity to let this talent of yours go to waste." Jonghyun joked absentmindedly, not even bothering to take his eyes off from the screen before him.

Key knew his words weren't being taken seriously by the professor. Upset, he let the broom fall on the floor, placing both of his hands on his waist—a hard stance, matching the unwavering look on his face. The sound of wood hitting the flooring snapped the older man out of his trance, raising his head right away towards the spot where Key was standing still.

"Jonghyun," he said without thinking, intense dissatisfaction channeled through the professor's name. Taking note of the lack of honorifics, he tried to sound a bit respectful, "...oppa."

Key was about to speak his mind when he saw Jonghyun in deep thought, treading his fingers through his chocolate-like hair while his other hand pushed his glasses up his nose bridge. He closed his mouth promptly, trying not to mind his worn-out patience while he waited.

"I gave everything on a silver platter to the one before you, and I regret doing so. I don't make the same mistake twice." These words being said, Jonghyun turned himself to his laptop once again, leaving it at that.

* * *

Jonghyun's eyes roamed around his office in boredom, while he twirled a pen around the fingers of his left hand. It'd been a long time since he was last able to slack off in peace—he couldn't do it when Key was around; what would she think of him?—, and he now found himself with an unusual amount of free time on his hands, due to him dismissing the girl for the day after having her clean his restroom for the second time this week.

Jonghyun had to acknowledge Key's hard work; even though she was prone to snarky remarks and momentary laziness, he couldn't say he regretted taking her in. Plus, she had been doing just fine for over a month, and it would be cold of him not to reward her for her productiveness; especially after her "little" outburst yesterday. Maybe Jonghyun could come up with the basics to songwriting through some rhymes so she'd grasp the feeling of writing lyrics—after all, he had been putting off teaching her for too long now.

Deeming it a good idea, he got his cell phone out of his desk's drawer to check how much time he had left before his next class. Although this was his main intent, Jonghyun couldn't help letting his eyes wander first to his inbox icon—no new messages. Grimacing a bit in displeasure at the device, he aimed his eyes at the huge numbers on the screen, which indicated he had little more than one hour to do what he wanted.

Jonghyun evaluated an hour was enough to get some rhymes noted down; he had already written whole songs in less time. With a pen already in his left hand, his right one reached for the last drawer, where he "hid" his most precious notebook—"hid" in between quotation marks because Jonghyun knew there was no need to go through the trouble of keeping it covert from Key for he trusted her not to read it. Still, better safe than sorry.

He was about to start writing when he heard an uneasy knock on the door, "professor?" The sudden call gave Jonghyun a start, making him face the office entrance in such haste that his neck tingled in pain. _That voice_ … Despite the evident Seoul dialect, for a brief moment Jonghyun could swear Key was the one entering his office. Instead, before him was a student with pink bangs and blond hair, who was clearly tense under his gaze.

"Excuse me, professor, I hope I'm not interrupting you in the middle of something important…" Hesitant words left his lips, and had Jonghyun not been in his "professor persona", he would have frowned at the young's tangible uncertainty. Honestly, he knew little about this student—Jonghyun didn't even know his name—, but he had never taken the boy for one to look so irresolute.

Maybe his judgment was being blurred by his hobby of guessing his students' personality based on their looks during class, but since the beginning of the semester Jonghyun had believed this boy to be a centered, undisturbed person. He was always taking notes on his lectures, and seemed to have a bold yet respectful behavior—nothing like the restless, young man standing by the door right now. Anyhow, manners first, "There's no problem, may I help you?"

Jonghyun pretended not to notice the deep breath the student took before speaking up, "I'm Kim Kibum, I attend to your elective, Lyric Interpretations. Something came up and I was absent yesterday, so I missed your class." All this was said in one go, and the student made a face as if in disapproval at himself for talking so hurriedly. "I'd like to know if it's possible for you to tell me the homework you assigned us to do," he asked courteously.

Jonghyun refrained his face from falling—he knew the drill, he heard this story uncountable times since he'd become a professor. "'Something came up'?" He quoted Kibum, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

There was a subtle change on the student's eyes; however, it didn't go unnoticed by the professor. "I had to assist a relative of mine," Kibum's major might be in musical acting, but he didn't know how to lie. Or Jonghyun was very observant.

 _Family?_ He hadn't expected the other to play that card—again, his mental image of _Kim Kibum_ proved itself wrong. What a pity, he had potential to be such a hardworking student. "We listened to love songs in class, and based on that you are supposed write love lyrics on your own," Jonghyun's tone was serious, almost no trace of his previous politeness left. "You must hand it in here, in the office, when you're done. The deadline is in a week—well, it's in five days _now_."

Sensing something akin to censure in Jonghyun's demeanor, Kibum bowed respectfully before saying, "Thank you, professor."

"Don't mention it," the young took these words as cue to exit the office, reaching quickly for the doorknob—all he wanted was to free himself from Jonghyun's disesteeming gaze as fast as possible. "And, Kim Kibum?" Said student turned right away when he was called, "The next time you miss my class because of something so minor that you feel the need to lie to me about it, please, do ask your classmates for help."

Kibum's eyes doubled their normal size, and he parted his lips slowly, as if afraid of talking. He endured to Jonghyun's hard gaze, nonetheless. At last, he answered, "Sure thing, professor," before turning his back and closing the door.

* * *

Jinki halted his steps the very instant he opened the door, upon being greeted by the view of his roommate face first on the two-seat couch of their living room; feet dangling due to its short length. He took in the unusual scene before him—there was a small pile of paper sheets that had been crumpled into a ball-like shape on the floor, and close to it was Kibum's outstretched right hand, which was holding a pen in a rather angry way.

Knowing better than to disturb his friend when he was in such somber state, Jinki intended to walk to his bedroom furtively, but he just couldn't keep it quiet when he took note of a particular object, "Why is my notebook on the coffee table?" Even though his voice had sounded as calm as ever, there was evident wariness in it.

Kibum's upper body was propped up by his elbows, and his eyes wandered around the room for a brief moment before settling on Jinki. This move showed his face for the first time since the older man got home, exhibiting at last a beat expression that made Jinki pity him. “Kim Jonghyun asked for lyrics," Kibum replied as if these words turned everything crystal clear.

Jinki walked forward to grab hold of his notebook, keeping it close to his chest like it was something precious. Maybe it was indeed. "You should be on cloud nine, so what's with the foul mood?" He asked as he headed for his bedroom.

Kibum clicked his tongue at that— _Jinki and his annoying habit of asking things right before exiting the room_ —, but he ended up getting up slowly from the couch anyway, following his hyung through the short hallway of their apartment. "Hyung, is Taemin coming here tonight?" He questioned as he leaned against the doorframe; Jinki's previous inquiry completely forgotten.

Although Kibum couldn't see it, Jinki frowned at such a random ask, "No, college work has finally caught up with him, so he's kinda busy for the next days." He placed his notebook on one of the shelves by his closet, before turning to Kibum, "Why?"

The younger pursed his lips, and sheer dismay took over his tone when answering, "I believe I'm in need of ice cream night." He confessed, allowing his face to display how helpless he felt right now.

Because Jinki was a great hyung, the first thing that came out of his lips was a mere, "Oh," as he read in between the lines of Kibum's statement. Noticing this wasn't the response his dongsaeng was hoping for, Jinki tried smiling widely to cheer him up. "I'll get some ice cream from the fridge, and you'll turn on the TV, ok? _This time_ I let you choose the channel," _this_ made Kibum crack a small smile; Jinki said it as if it were a one-time thing, when that actually happened pretty often.

Silence took over their apartment as each one of them two did their assigned tasks—Jinki got some strawberry ice cream from their endless ice cream storage (due to Taemin's doing), and Kibum was grateful for finding a TV program that wasn't neither a drama nor a variety show. A couple of minutes later, they were both on the floor with their backs propped against the neglected couch; an ice cream container between them. All lights had been turned off, and the widescreen's colorful brightness provided them poor illumination—it was intentional though. Kibum felt more comfortable speaking his heart out in the dark, and Jinki was aware that he would soon do so.

He still reminded the first time he experienced Kibum's hot-blooded outburst—Jinki had no idea what to do at first, and it took him some time to learn the "drill": listen, listen, and listen some more, and add a couple of funny remarks in between to light Kibum up. He got surprised in the beginning, but he soon caught himself sort of enjoying it—enjoying being the reliable hyung. People seemed to take him as a somewhat "inept" sunbae due to his clumsy actions, therefore Jinki find it very pleasing that Kibum had deemed him trustworthy enough to share his thoughts with him.

They lost track of time in between spoonfuls of pink-colored ice cream, and Jinki was only waiting for the words to flow through Kibum's lips at any instant—Jinki wouldn't rush him into saying anything, nevertheless; Kibum reading his notebook was enough to embarrass himself for some months. They hadn't reached the bottom of the container yet when the blond, at last, set his empty spoon down.

"Kim Jonghyun asked for lyrics," he repeated his previous words, and Jinki nodded patiently. "He didn't ask Key to write them though. He assigned an assignment for the class I'm in, but I missed it because he asked me—no, he asked _Key_ —to do a thing. I went over to his office as myself—you know, with no girls’ clothing on," Jinki's small eyes got so round they almost looked average-size. "Yeah, I too reacted like this when I had this idea. But I thought: 'hey, professor is always talking about how he wants to get to know his students, so I should ask him about the assignment myself!'" Kibum copied his own enthusiastic voice, though there was something akin to resent dripping all over his speech.

He grabbed his spoon back harder than necessary, and stuck it into his mouth after filling it with ice cream. As Kibum did it, Jinki took a moment to take note of his Daegu dialect, which had been awakening gradually during his narration, to Jinki's amusement.

Kibum lowered his spoon once more, and went on talking, "Naive me, how naive. He questioned me on why I missed his class, and I had to come up with a lie because I couldn't just say 'I was too busy getting your clothes from the dry cleaner.' He then started to treat me harshly, and he doesn't treat his students that way; I know that because I watch him for the whole day!" Jinki raised his hands as if he were a mid-schooler asking his teacher for permission to speak, and Kibum rolled his eyes at that, "I know, hyung, I noticed that what I've just said rhymed."

Jinki giggled at the other's words, and he could almost see angry red starting to color Kibum's cheeks. "I wasn't going to say that. It's just that... Maybe Jonghyun had the right to treat you like that." He confessed hesitantly, fearing for his friend's reaction.

The older man's polite tone didn't lessen Kibum outrage at all, "Jinki, the only reason I tell you stuff is because you always take my side!" The omission of _hyung_ showed how insulted he felt by the other's statement.

"Hold on, Kibum, I didn't express myself well," he pretended not to hear a whispered _as always_ , "You lied to him. I understand why you did it—you _needed_ to—, but he doesn't. In his eyes you're just a lazy student who skipped class because you didn't feel like listening to him talk." Very smooth, Jinki, congratulations.

Kibum sighed at that, looking as hopeless as he did when Jinki got home. "Hyuuuung, you're not helping at all" He complained while helping himself some more ice cream, seeking solace in its coldness; he knew his hyung's words made sense, and there was nothing he could do. Despite that, Kibum still sensed an uneasy feeling take over his stomach bit by bit, even though he had long accepted he would miss classes because of this "job" of his—nonetheless, he could have never predicted this same job would also become the cause of a professor looking down on him.

"Do you know if Professor Jonghyun is a hot-headed person?" Kibum asked out of the blue, face twisted in a thoughtful frown. If he had one more puzzle piece to see the whole picture, maybe he could see the bright side of this situation.

Jinki pondered for a second before finally answering. "I don't think he's like that. We've talked sometimes during company parties, and he seemed to be a pretty cool guy. He speaks too much for my taste though."

Kibum would have chuckled at his observation—yes, that sounded definitely like Kim Jonghyun—if it hadn't just told him the obvious, "That's it, professor Jonghyun hates me and he doesn't even know me." He clicked his tongue as his dreadfulness was replaced by sheer discontent upon being faced by such unfavorable verdict.

Jinki tried to get some reason into his friend's head so he wouldn't jump to conclusions. "You must consider some factors; he's a professor, so do well on his assignment and he'll forget that you lied to him in the blink of an eye. And maybe he wasn't in a bad mood because of you; everybody has bad days, maybe you were just unlucky."

Jinki then noticed Kibum was paying no mind to his words, for he stayed the whole time with his head hung low, staring at the pink ice cream on his spoon. Jinki punched him lightly on his shoulder to regain Kibum's attention. "I can assure you that you aren't the only one 'hated'", Jinki made sure to draw quotes on the air when speaking, "by Jonghyun. Once, he had an argument with a rapper because he made some little changes on the lyrics of a ballad that Jonghyun had written."

Kibum narrowed his eyes skeptically, suspecting it was one of Jinki's attempts at comforting him. "I thought you didn't believe office gossip," he said accusingly, though he was interested in getting more information on his professor.

"I don't, but this isn't gossip, it did happen," He said it so vehemently that Kibum let go of his suspicions; Jinki didn't know how to lie _that_ well. "The song was released last year, I think. 'Alarm Clock', do you know it?"

"Whaaat?" Kibum gaped upon the familiar song title, "You mean that Jonghyun wrote the lyrics of Choi Minho's only ballad? How come I don't know that?!" He said it in such a dissatisfied tone that Jinki almost expected him to go ballistic at himself—fan's pride, figures.

"I'm pretty surprise too, after all, you're Jonghyun's #1 fan," Jinki insisted, despite the grumpy look aimed at him, "Please, don't even try to deny it. You're wearing skirts just to learn from him. Plus, I know you have an account on his fancafe, don't lie to me."

Kibum indulged to the urge of rolling his eyes at his hyung, and turned to the television before them, suddenly taking interest in the TV program he had chosen—no way in hell was he blushing at the truth behind Jinki's jokes. However, there was still a topic they hadn't talked about, "What does Jonghyun's assignment have to do with you reading my notebook?" Jinki fired his question point-blank, even though he felt a bit nervous regarding the whole "reading-one's-personal-thoughts" thing.

Kibum sighed for the umpteenth time tonight, though for a different reason than the previous ones—he was buying himself time to phrase his answer. "I was trying to write lyrics, but they all turned out pretty awful, so I tried to get inspiration by reading yours. I know I should respect your privacy and blahblahblah, but I didn't think at the moment, my bad." Yes, this was the "Kibum way" of apologizing.

"Oh," Jinki blamed his poor reply partly on his natural inarticulateness, partly on the fact that he didn't know exactly _how to_ react.

Kibum smiled at the TV, not daring to look his hyung in the eye. "Your lyrics are pretty good, did you know that? Specially the ones you've written about Taemin." He didn't have to glance at Jinki to acknowledge his blushing. "I really meant it; you should give it a shot."

"Thank you," Jinki said it in a low voice, stuffing his mouth with ice cream so he would have an excuse to not talk anymore.

Of course Kibum couldn't let go of the topic without making fun of it, "And I felt pretty touched by a few lyrics... I didn't know you valued our friendship that much, hyung, how cute." Kibum earned a smack to the back of his head, but it was impossible for Jinki's wide smile to go unnoticed.

* * *

Saturday. Kibum came to realize its value only after becoming Jonghyun's slave—ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Still, Saturday and Sunday were his only days off nowadays, so he treasured them the most. He usually spent them working on his vocal training, or practicing a new choreography with Taemin; however, the boy was too busy with college work— _You knew you'd have to study some time; it serves you right_ —, and, to be honest, Kibum didn't feel like dancing today. Actually, he didn't feel like doing anything at all; it was already ten in the morning and he hadn't gotten out of bed yet.

A faint melody could be heard through his bedroom's door, indicating that Jinki was already up, and probably working on a new composition of his. Kibum could _sense_ it. Assorted musical notes being forged to create unique sounds. A hardworking hyung giving his all to tame them in order to achieve a cohesive sound, regardless of how different they were from each other. Then Jinki's melody would be attached to lyrics written by artists like Jonghyun, and the result would make people feel brand new sensations by hearing alone.

 _Jonghyun_ . Kibum shook his head almost instantly, trying to keep the man away from his thoughts. _No, no, focus. Today is Saturday_. Why waste a beautiful day on bed when so much could be done? Following Jinki's suit—or better, _Onew_ 's—, Kibum finally got up with his cell phone right in hand; fingers fleeting across his touch screen as he dialed a familiar number.

He was promptly greeted by a sleepy yawn, "Nicole, dear, how about shopping?" Maybe his parents had too much money, maybe they didn't worry about spoiling Kibum, and maybe Kibum was a 22-year-old man who still had a monthly allowance. Anyhow, it was a Saturday morning and he suddenly felt like shopping.

"Shopping?!" There was a brief pause, during which Kibum presumed Nicole was checking the caller's name written on screen, "Kibum, do you have any idea what time it is?" He could almost hear her pouting, displeased. Nonetheless, it was clear to both of them that all sleep traces were little by little disappearing from her speech.

"That's no excuse; all stores on the shopping district must be opening right now. C'mon, Nicole." Kibum hoped his enthusiastic voice would boost the girl's mood up. "I promise you I'll treat you."

Nicole let out a childish whine, "Now I can't say I'll go because it'll sound like you bought my company."

"Nicole, you know I'd never think that of you," he smiled at her silly complaint, even though she couldn't see it. "I really need your help, please," Kibum made use of his pleading voice, the one he knew Nicole couldn't resist.

She sounded hesitant, but Kibum sensed she was almost a hundred percent convinced, "You do?"

"Of course I do," he answered without faltering, and Kibum knew he had won, "Don't have breakfast before leaving, it'll be on me."

* * *

At first, Nicole didn't find it weird that Kibum had followed her to the girl's section of the clothes store—after all, he often gave her good advice on fashion. However, when she caught him choosing clothes that weren't obviously for her, she couldn't help but let her mind make up uncountable scenarios. Ceasing her browsing for a bit, Nicole leaned one of her elbows on a clothes rack close by, in order to prop her head up with her hand. This way, she had a clear view of his friend while he strolled around the store; so engrossed in selecting clothes that he didn't even notice that Nicole was no longer by his side.

Yes, Kibum had pretty feminine features. At first, Nicole had suspected he was gay, but after having Kibum himself denying it—with words and _actions_ too; he was a great kisser—, she decided to forget all about that; maybe he was that kind of people that didn't fall perfectly into any category. This conclusion proved itself quite befitting throughout their time together, for the more Nicole talked to Kibum, the more she found out how unique he was. Girls clothing though? It didn't make any sense; Kibum had no sisters and it wasn't gift season yet.

Maybe Kibum intended to try out cross-dressing? Even though thousands of questions were tingling Nicole's tongue, pleading to be asked, she knew better than to inquire Kibum—it would have the very opposite effect; he would shut her out and keep himself mute. Plus, it wasn't smart to displease who you expected to pay for your meal later. An inaudible sigh left her lips as she abandoned her thoughtful stance to walk across the store, passing by clothes racks and mannequins.

"Plaid and stripes? You can't be serious." Nicole said when she was within Kibum's earshot, the odd combination of clothes in his hands catching her eye. She still didn't get her friend's intentions, but she might as well play along.

Kibum blinked a few times, as if absorbing her words. He then regarded the clothing with a knowing look, "Yeah, you're right. I have no idea what I had in mind when I got these." He said it with a grimace on his face, putting the attire away as if it was toxic. "Maybe we've been shopping for too long, let's eat?" Although it sounded like a suggestion, Kibum was already heading for the cashier, leaving no room for Nicole to object.

More than half an hour later—blame it on Nicole's snail pace when choosing food under pressure—, they were sat on a street bench and having pretzels for breakfast. Nicole was strangely silent, seeming way more entertained by the sight before them than it would be considered _normal_ —Kibum didn't regret asking her for company to go shopping, nevertheless.

He had predicted her reaction before even calling her—he knew Nicole wouldn't question him regarding the clothes he'd bought, though she would surely make assumptions on her own. Still, Kibum knew her since he'd gotten into college, and her actions had long confirmed that confidence was surely one of her many qualities—why not entrust her with his _little_ secret? And he could use a girl's help, too. "Did you know Kim Jonghyun has taken in a disciple?" Kibum feigned indifference, and resumed eating his pretzel with the purpose of looking apathetic.

Unwilling to interrupt her chewing to answer his question—she was _starving_ —, Nicole put her hand in front of her mouth when speaking. "Yeah, somebody told me that. I gotta say, this girl has some guts," she praised.

"Why?" Kibum tried not to sound too prying by faking interest in observing the families that walked along the sidewalk before them, enjoying happily this Saturday morning.

Nicole took her sweet time finishing her pretzel before finally talking, as if she wanted to leave Kibum in the dark for as long as possible. "Have you heard what people say about Professor Jonghyun? He does human trafficking with them. He cuts them open and sells their organs in the black market. He makes them his sex slaves."

 _I gave everything on a silver platter to the one before you, and I regret doing so. I don't make the same mistake twice._ **_The one before you._ **

**_The one before you._ **

Kibum's pretzel was set down on the tray between them, completely forgotten by the young man as he gaped at his friend, trying to take in all this unbelievable information. "Nicole, these are all rumors, for Christ's sake." He rolled his eyes, and pretended not to see Nicole's offended expression.

Truth be told, Kibum was sort of lying right now. According to what Jonghyun had hinted a couple of days ago—for real, the man needed to stop saying overly theatrical lines that seemed to be read from a drama script—, his last disciple had screwed up pretty much, so that Jonghyun would deem necessary to make Key do some many chores as a "punishment". This was pretty unfair, if Kibum might add.

Keeping this insight to himself, he turned back to Nicole, "I mean, they're as true as 'all Jonghyun's late disciples became famous celebrities', or 'one of his disciples fell in love with him, and when she got too obsessed he killed her.' And he would never do such thing, really."

Nicole clicked her tongue at Kibum's know-it-all voice, taking it as a criticism on her naivety. However, she soon let go of her whine as she had her eye caught on Kibum's oblivion towards his own breakfast. Nicole took a shot at stealing his half-eaten pretzel, and Kibum didn't notice that she was chewing contentedly again as she remarked, "You talk as if you knew him well. Yeah, you take his classes every semester regardless of the subject he's teaching, but it doesn't mean you know everything about him." _Being Jonghyun's fan doesn't testify anything neither_ , this was left unsaid, but they both knew it was implied in her speech.

"Still, Jonghyun-oppa isn't like that, okay? You can take my word for it." Kibum almost grumbled, annoyed at Nicole's retort. It was weird how insulted he felt for hearing Jonghyun being bad-mouthed by others, when taking into account that so far Jonghyun had done little to deserve his high regard.

"'Oppa'?" Nicole questioned as she stared at him with a puzzled look on her face, mouth wide open and pretzel in hand—a quite yucky view in Kibum's opinion, but that wasn't the matter right now.

Really, what had happened to Kibum's impressive talent to lie? He had never left something so silly slip out before. He had called Jonghyun "oppa" for, like, three times only, and, of course, he had to do it in front of _Nicole_. _Great way of telling her about the whole cross-dressing thing_ , Kibum thought bitterly. "I am Jonghyun's new disciple," the words fell from his lips as fast as he could, making him pant briefly after having said them.

Nicole seemed to have slipped into a catatonic-like state as she wrestled with the information that had just been presented to her. She had an expressionless face on; pretzel still frozen halfway to her mouth. After a couple of minutes, Kibum started to seriously contemplate pinching the girl's arm so she would lay down her numb stance, but then Nicole finally managed to utter something. "Elaborate," she simply stated, her voice thick with shock.

Kibum sighed in relief—at least Nicole didn't sound angry. "I've been taking interest in lyric-writing for some time now, so I wished to take lessons from Professor Jonghyun, but—you know—he only accepts female students..." He sighed as he trailed off, angry for being at a loss for words when he needed them the most. Kibum tried to counterbalance his sudden faulty speech with gestures, moving forward to grasp one of his friend's hands into his—the one that wasn't holding the pretzel, of course. "Nicole, I want it so bad that I don't mind cross-dressing and deceiving Professor Jonghyun," he confessed in a whisper.

He hoped he'd conveyed fully all the emotions that were bursting inside him as he spoke, yet Nicole's lasting silence was progressively turning Kibum into a pile of nerves. Anxious and eager to know the girl's viewpoint of it all, he kept on—after all, Kibum loved to hear himself speaking, and this trait of his got ten times worse when he was tense. "My organs are all right, and I hasn't been sexually abused nor sold to anyone. So yep, all those things you said are only rumors, you can chill out. By the way, I want to ask you a thing… Is wearing high heels always a torturous experience? I mean, one day I'll get used to the pain and all that jazz, right?"

Actually Kibum had asked this just for the sake of rhetoric, however Nicole had somehow freed herself from her previous torpor, and seemed to be taking things quite casually all of a sudden, "High heels are devil's creation: they're so beautiful, yet _so_ harmful." Kibum opened his mouth to reply, but he was stopped by Nicole's outstretched right hand, motioning him to remain mute. "Hold on, you are serious," that wasn't a question. "It means you dress up as a girl just to have Kim Jonghyun teach you? Wow, I had underestimated your _fanboyness_."

"Hey, that's not the current matter in hand," there was no authentic discontent behind Kibum's complaint; he was too happy for finally having a sort of response from his friend. His following words were soon forgotten as he watched Nicole disappear with his pretzel before his eyes, "Do you ever stop eating?"

She pretended not to hear him, picking up their previous topic, "You, a girl? Clothes, makeup, et cetera?" Nicole raised an eyebrow at that, her thoughtful look indicating that she was probably picturing the boy all dolled up. Then her face became worried, realization hitting her, "Kim Kibum, you are crazy! You can't do that, he'll find out!" Her voice raised a couple of octaves in surprise, and Kibum giggled at that—sometimes Nicole was just too cute (and loud). "You can't play a girl, we girls, girls are..." She stuttered, and her speech became too inarticulate for Kibum to understand anything else.

But there it was.

It was as if a flame had lightened up inside him; a warm feeling was overflowing from the depths of his gut. _Girls, girls, girls_ —Nicole was still talking, oblivious to Kibum's lack of attention, and this was the only word he could comprehend due to anxiety messing with her elocution. It was being repeated—once, twice, thrice—and it somehow rang a bell; Kibum's gut feeling seemed to unfold itself in the confines of his being, getting bigger and bigger, like it was saying "that's it, follow this."

However, "girls, girls, girls"—how could Kibum _follow_ this?

 _Inspiration is a darling who shows up only when she wishes to_ , Jonghyun's voice echoed across his skull. Love, that's the thing.

 _Love_.

Kibum would never be able to express love in rhymes like Onew does. Kibum had never truly loved as in _passion_ -love, so he would never write emotional lyrics like the ones he read on his hyung's notebook. But Onew could do this only because _Jinki_ loved; Jinki loved Taemin, and due to that his lyrics were filled with fear—fear for Taemin leaving him. It was understandable, after all, Jinki was Taemin's first _everything_ , and there were plenty of fish in the sea available to the boy.

But Kibum hadn't, he had never experienced this deep, sentimental side present in all human beings, which is the source of all outstanding artworks ever created—yet. He hadn't known passion _yet_. In the meantime, Kibum might as well write about the love that he had known to the fullest.

"Nicole," he placed his index finger on her lips to silence her. She obliged, confusion making her frown at him. "Nicole, I'm so sorry, but I must go now."

"What? Kibum, don't, you can't tell me all this and then just go away!" Nicole protested, and Kibum knew she was right—more important things called him right now, nonetheless.

"I love you, thank you very much for everything," he kissed her right cheek lightly before standing up, grabbing his shopping bags and leaving without looking back.

* * *

Jonghyun took every assignment out of his desk drawer and stacked them in a neat pile before him. Even though the deadline was still two days away, a considerable number of students had already handed in their homework; except for a few that he had long acknowledged as uninterested in his subject—they were the ones who spent the whole class texting while believing that Jonghyun couldn't see their cell phones hidden under their desks. (Really, they should at least bother adjusting the screen brightness in the minimum mode. Did they actually think that the artificial glow on their faces went unnoticed by Jonghyun?)

He had granted Key the day off since he wanted to go over the assignments by himself—the reason was still unknown to him, but he couldn't fully focus on reading when the girl was around. Thus, Jonghyun began to study his students' lyrics, setting some aside for further analysis—he actually intended to show some of the assignments to Key so he could point out to her common mistakes made when writing lyrics for the first time. Jonghyun knew this was probably against the university's policy, yet, when was he ever obliging?

The professor soon lost track of time—as it always happened when he was too engrossed in something. He didn't even go through the trouble of looking at his watch when he decided to take a break—Jonghyun had long ago found out that time wasn't the best way of measuring the quality of the work done. He was only sure that he had a class to teach around evening—the exact time didn't matter; Jonghyun had his alarm set to go off twenty minutes before class would start.

He took off his glasses and started rubbing his eyes almost right away, sensing that sleepiness would soon catch up with him—he had stayed up all night, per usual. Jonghyun had taught only once while in a sleepy-like state, and he could assure it was a living hell—it was as if the students turned into whining kids before his heavy eyes, every question and remark sounding incredibly annoying. This added to staying in a standing position for over three hours while speaking on and on made the whole experience simply traumatizing— _never again_.

With this in mind, he got out of his office with the purpose of getting some canned coffee from a vending machine. He locked the door behind him even though he wouldn't go anywhere too far—walk by a couple of doors and then turn right; the machine is on your left, by the supply room—, since this was a habit Jonghyun developed when he first began to live by himself.

He had just selected his drink and inserted money in the vending machine when he felt a large hand on his right shoulder. Jonghyun relaxed as fast as he had tensed in response to the unknown touch—it took him a millisecond to recognize these lean fingers, this somehow tender hold. Jonghyun released a breath he had been holding unconsciously, "You shouldn't be here." He tried to scold, but his words ended up sounding too submissive.

Another hand was gently placed on the small of his back. It was a subtle touch, yet Jonghyun still looked nervously around, fearing that someone had noticed the atypical proximity between them. The few people that were passing by didn't even spare them a glance—they probably thought they were just in line for the vending machine, great. A low voice resonated close to Jonghyun's ear, "I'm sorry, professor, it's just that I miss you _so much_ …"

The professor had no idea how to respond to that, so he remained speechless. The (not so) stranger took some steps back so that there was a substantial distance between them—despite that, Jonghyun's heartbeat was still insanely fast.

His silence didn't seem to discourage the other, "Now shall we go to your office, _professor_?" The suggestion was followed by an outstretched hand, a clear invitation.

Jonghyun took it without a second thought—what could he do? He simply had no resistance to that velvety voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised monthly updates but I got kind of late this time, I'm sorry. Spending over 4 months in lockdown has taken its toll on me so it's been hard for me to focus on anything lately :/


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun sees such a beautiful view, and so does Kibum (unfortunately).

Kibum had done it. He wrote love lyrics and he actually _enjoyed_ doing it, despite all difficulties he had to put up with in the beginning. At first Kibum feared finding out he wasn't cut out for lyric-writing after having gone through the trouble of cross-dressing himself and lying to his estimable professor, but his dread turned out plainly silly— _now_ he understood why Jonghyun talked about his job, talked about writing with an intense, appreciation-filled voice. It was great; it filled him with an amazing emotion that couldn't be named.

The best part was the writing itself—seeing the pen in his hand move briskly across the paper (that had long ago lost its blankness), scribbling down random ideas and rhymes on the margins, afraid of forgetting them too fast. This experience had awakened inside Kibum the reason he got into this whole madness regarding Jonghyun's disciple thing, it had fueled him with brand new willpower—Jonghyun hated Kibum? He couldn't care any less about it; Kibum wasn't the one who needed something from Jonghyun—it was Key. It was _all_ about Key.

He wasn't in drag right now, for he had the day off— _thank God_. He hoped Jonghyun had finally come to his senses and realized he needed a break—actually he highly doubted that was the case; Kibum knew the man offered him this "little treat" only because he felt like doing it. Anyhow, what mattered was that Kibum was a free man for 24 hours, and this time was used to finish his assignment, so now he was prepared to hand it in.

To his surprise, the doorknob didn't move under his hand, indicating that Jonghyun's office was locked. He frowned at that—the man never locked it when he was there in order to be always available for all his students. Kibum then shrugged, letting go of his worries as he remembered he had the key, so there was no problem. He would get in, sneak his assignment in between the other ones, and get out without being seen. Simple, fast, easy.

Kibum was closing the drawer when he heard it.

The metallic clink of a key.

Muffled voices coming from the hallway.

Nearby.

Near.

 _Nearer_.

" _Oh, it seems I left it unlocked. Weird, I could swear I had_ …" This was Jonghyun's voice, it was definitely Jonghyun's.

Kibum raised his eyes in time to see the doorknob be twisted by someone from the other side.

* * *

"You're crazy, you shouldn't be here," Jonghyun said it for the umpteenth time on their way to his office. He tried to give out something close to normalcy through his slow steps, but he was failing pretty badly—he wanted to run, he wanted to be between four walls with this obnoxiously tall man _right now_.

Minho laughed shortly at his apprehension, showing consequently his perfect, white teeth, worth of starring a toothpaste CF (maybe they already had). "Don't worry, I'm undercover, can't you see?" He joked as he tapped lightly at the brim of his cap—he also wore a hoodie to guarantee that no one recognized him.

Jonghyun rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his canned coffee—it was funny. It was funny how they saw so little of each other, and when they did have the chance to enjoy each other's company, things never got weird between them no matter how long they had been apart. Well, that was expected, right? After all, Minho wasn't a mere _anyone_ to Jonghyun. "It's still dangerous though; if one fan sees you… You're doomed." He shook his head, halting his steps before his office door.

"We've worked together once, we can easily make up a lie or something," Minho shrugged, and Jonghyun truly envied his recklessness. "I just had to come; I know you missed me as much as I missed you." He whispered, suppressing a small smile upon seeing Jonghyun having trouble to pick up the correct key from his keychain. When he heard the older man curse quietly, he just couldn't keep it quiet, "Why are you so edgy, _hyung_?"

Jonghyun stopped his hands swiftly to stare hard at Minho—his eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched. How dared Minho call him hyung when he knew what it did to Jonghyun? The son of a bitch was deliberately teasing him, and it was working just fine—Jonghyun's face got a more somber look as sudden desire unfolded itself inside him, "I have no fucking idea how much free time I have before my class starts, but I want _it_ , Minho." Jonghyun's tone was almost a warning one.

"I didn't expect less of you," Minho murmured, and _goddammit_ , this voice was going to be the death of Jonghyun. He took the keychain from the professor's hands with the intention of searching for the office key himself.

Jonghyun set down his right hand on the doorknob while waiting for Minho to find the damn key, "Oh," he exclaimed after taking note of something. "It seems I left it unlocked," he gave a flustered smile, "Weird, I could swear I had locked it though."

Minho's impatience made him forget his usually polite behavior, "Hyung, who cares?" He placed a possessive hand on Jonghyun's back, ushering him inside the office.

The older man couldn't help but snicker at that, walking over to his desk so he could leave his canned coffee safely on it. Jonghyun then turned to the other one, who was promptly closing the door behind him. "Impatient, aren't we?" He remarked as his steps brought him back to Minho, stopping halfway to tug the man towards him by pulling his belt loops. When the distance between them became absent, Jonghyun was already looking upwards, searching for Minho's mouth—he did hate how tall the young man was. Minho lowered his face, and it happened. Their lips met each other.

Jonghyun loved guys, and he really _loved_ loving them—he would never force himself to grow some pseudo fascination for women. There was no way he could feel attracted to them; he didn't feel drawn by none of the things they had to offer him. Their lips were too soft and sticky due to the always annoying lip gloss, whereas Minho's were dry and roughened and decided—oh, Jonghyun loved specially this: the never ending dispute for dominance. He never got bored thanks to that; every time it was all new, regardless of the number of times they had hooked up. Minho topped, Jonghyun topped, whatever—Jonghyun particularly enjoyed taking it in the ass, and he wasn't ashamed of saying that.

There was no fear behind Minho's moves as he took over Jonghyun's mouth, tasting every corner of it as if it was their first kiss all over again. He sucked at the professor's tongue palatably, earning a satisfied sigh in response. "Fuck, I'm so happy my comeback ended at last," Minho whispered against his lips, and Jonghyun was driven crazy by the brushing resulted by his action.

The older man didn't reply to his remark—he knew he didn't have to. Minho always did this when they reunited after a long period of time: he opened his heart, he stripped himself bare before Jonghyun in every possible meaning, and Jonghyun just stood there… Listening. Taking in every hushed confession. He comprehended Minho, he truly did—whereas Jonghyun expressed all his pent-up feelings through lyrics, Minho needed to say them aloud. Jonghyun liked that _a lot_.

"I missed you so much, so much…" The words that left the rapper's lips were barely audible since he wouldn't stop kissing his way down Jonghyun's neck.

The brunet closed his eyes happily, relishing the warmth of Minho's large hands on his hips, the burning of lips against his skin. He raised one of his hands to caress the other's short black hair. It was kind of sharp pointed on the tips, like short needles—Jonghyun delighted in feeling it against his fingertips; girls' hair was fluffy, so dull. "You know, you're in debt to me," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Am I? Explain," Minho replied before resuming his ministrations. His kisses had already reached Jonghyun's shoulder, and were lowering towards his arm as he fought against the bothersome fabric of Jonghyun's clothes. The older man felt one of the hands leave his hips, heading towards the small of his back and venturing lower and lower, bit by bit. Jonghyun pulled Minho's hair when he sensed a finger slip in between his cheeks, and tried hard not to gasp loudly at the touch.

"Your job keeps you busy, so you haven't been carrying out your duties regarding my _needs_ ," even though he couldn't see it, Minho knew the man was pouting. He withdrew so he could glance at the other's face, his fingers trailing Jonghyun's sharp jawline. The other hand, which was still wandering along his crack, was keeping their crotches together, making their growing erections glide against each other temptingly.

"Is that so? What should I do 'regarding your needs'?" Minho's question sounded amused to Jonghyun's ears. The mischievous grin he opened afterwards, added to the cute (and paradoxical) way his large eyes looked like smiley crescents when they were closed, did little to ease Jonghyun's craving.

"Satisfy them. _Me_. Right now," he didn't falter when confessing his yearning out loud, grinding his hips briefly against Minho's with the intent of teasing the man as much as he himself was being teased.

The youngster's face seemed unfazed by the other's pleadings, but Jonghyun felt his hand wander around a more _southern_ area. "Let me think about that," Minho then started frowning slightly while staring into space with a fake, thoughtful look on his eyes—the professor wanted to laugh at this; he recognized that expression as the one Minho wore when acting in his dramas.

However, any humorous thoughts Jonghyun had were instantly forgotten as a bold finger was pressed against his puckered entrance, making him shudder straightaway and grip Minho's shoulders, nails digging into his clothes. Though the touch wasn't skin to skin due to the fabric of Jonghyun's slacks, it was more than enough to fill the short man with _even_ _more_ arousal. "I don't have—" He interrupted his own words so he could thrust shallowly against Minho, aiming to lessen a bit of his _itch_. "I have neither lube nor condoms here…" Jonghyun's complaint was closed by a lewd moan as he wrapped his arms around Minho's neck.

"It does difficult things for us," the younger man pursed his lips, taking a few steps back and ending his touches. Jonghyun let go of him almost automatically, confusion and letdown displayed on his face as he took note of the tall man's attentive gaze aimed at his body.

"Are you fucking serious?" The professor's heart dropped. "You're really hesitating right now?" He glared as he questioned the other one, hands curling into fists in frustration. "We've had sex in worse conditions, that's ridiculous," Jonghyun turned his back to Minho so he wouldn't see him pouting like a spoiled 5-year-old kid.

A low chuckle followed the man's complaint, and soon arms were involving Jonghyun's torso; a bulk body pressed against his back. A chin rested itself on his right shoulder, and a kiss was placed on his neck, "Silly you. I'm facing a dilemma now, okay? I love it when you're all dressed up in your 'professor persona', so I don't know if I'd rather keep your clothes on or get you naked so we can have some _fun_. It's a shame you aren't wearing glasses though."

Jonghyun gritted his teeth in order to repress sighing in relief upon the realization that Minho had been just joking. _Again_. "Choi Minho, if one single drop of come falls on my blazer, I will punch you in the face."

Minho giggled openly at that, his hot breath warming a spot on Jonghyun's skin close to his collarbone. "You love my pretty face too much to do that," although he retorted, Minho actually complied with the older man's command, starting to unbuckle his belt.

Jonghyun had the perfect comeback for Minho's cocky statement, but he lost it when he became mindful of a bulge grazing his backside. "Hon, I wanna see you," he practically begged in a hushed, yet intense voice. Minho turned him around promptly, even so he looked briefly sorry for having to let go of his hold on Jonghyun's upper body. "I wanna see you," he repeated, stopping Minho's hands from resuming the task of undressing him, "take off your clothes."

Minho did as he was told—of course he undressed himself messily due to his haste, leaving his clothes sloppily on the floor. So did Jonghyun, but it didn't go unnoticed by Minho the special care with which the professor set his blazer on the floor—he had to refrain himself from laughing and ruining the mood.

"The chair," Jonghyun pointed at the object, motioning Minho to sit. He followed the instruction without protesting, expectation evident in his big eyes—he loved it when Jonghyun took the initiative and ordered him around. It was particularly interesting to see him do it while standing stark naked before him, member upright in arousal.

Jonghyun sat on Minho's lap, facing him as he wrapped the youngster's waist with his bare legs. Minho sighed upon the feeling of skin against skin, a warm and smooth sensation. "What do you want?" He asked softly, setting one hand on the lower back of Jonghyun's, fingertips rapping on it absentmindedly.

Jonghyun swallowed before answering in a murmur, "I want to touch you…" He sealed Minho's lips with his own subtly. "And I want you to touch me," he whispered against the frail pink skin.

Minho smiled at the other's serene stance, "Your wish is my command… _Hyung_." He used the honorific just to annoy Jonghyun—and he succeeded at that, for the man pinched one of his nipples with a scolding look on his eyes. However, it soon became a lustful one after hearing the pleasure-filled moan that fell from Minho's lips. He tried to silence himself by grabbing Jonghyun by his nape, pulling him closer so that they would kiss.

Jonghyun's hands roamed blindly around Minho's chest, caressing the strong muscles and mapping across the skin lines that only he could see—that was the reason why Minho worked out so hard at the gym; he knew Jonghyun had a "secret" fixation for muscles. When the touches got lower and headed for beyond his abdomen, although Minho already knew what expected him, he couldn't avoid gasping upon the sensation of a lukewarm hand around his cock.

Fingertips trailed around its head experimentally, smearing a bit of precome across the reddened skin. Minho bit Jonghyun's upper lip in response, which resulted in a suppressed groan against his mouth as the professor's hand curled into a fist around his cock, starting to jerk him off. This move made Jonghyun unintentionally touch his own cock, and in a few moments he was already grinding his hips lightly against Minho's, seeking for that warmth and being led by sheer instinct.

Minho released Jonghyun's lips for a brief moment so he could take a deep breath—the action was more difficult to accomplish than he thought; he was panting crazily due to Jonghyun's expert motions. Minho was never one to leave his lover unsatisfied, so he took care right away of palming the older man's cock teasingly. Jonghyun halted his grinding abruptly as he felt Minho's hand brushing soothingly against his own, the touch catching him by surprise—he was out of breath, sweat beads shining on his temples.

A needy noise erupted from deep within him, making Jonghyun blush shortly. He recomposed himself as much as possible so that he could whisper to Minho; his lips brushing against the youngster's left ear, "How about that, hon?" His inquiry was soon followed by a more sharp thrust, their crotches meeting each other. Jonghyun's hold around Minho's cock was suddenly gone, however his hand was back a second later, enveloping both his and Minho's cocks together.

Minho's head fell backwards as he closed his eyes strongly in pleasure, and Jonghyun smiled victoriously at that—now that he had the upper hand, he might as well retaliate all the teasing he had to put up with from Minho. He brushed his cock's foreskin against the other's, earning a loud moan—Jonghyun loved to hear Minho moan, it was the most gracious sound in the world. His baritone voice was naturally low when speaking or rapping or singing, but it turned out completely different when it came to sex—at first glance, Jonghyun would have never guessed that Minho got vocal in bed. That was a hell of a surprise when they first had sex.

Jonghyun started to pump them both with precise strokes while thrusting against his own fist, his body jerking at the strong feeling of delight. Damn, when had they last done that? He had no idea, but he was sure it was too long ago. "Fuck, Minho…" Jonghyun groaned against his collarbone, and upon seeing the fair skin before him, he took the chance to bite it softly, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it. The spot started to become red-colored, and he loved that view—it was his mark, Jonghyun's mark. Now that Minho's comeback had come to an end and he wouldn't display his impressive muscles on stage anymore, he could brand Minho as his as much as he wanted.

"Hyung… So lewd," Minho pointed it out with a grin on his lips even though he himself was breathless; his right hand joining Jonghyun's around their cocks while his other one held the professor's left hip, moving accordingly to his grinding.

"You're one to talk," Jonghyun almost didn't end his reply, panting heavily as he rested his forehead on Minho's shoulder. The harmony present in their touches was bringing Jonghyun to the edge—his legs closed their grip harder around Minho, and he had to grasp one of Minho's shoulders in order to keep himself balanced on his lap.

"Hyung, look at me," Minho's request sounded a bit narcissistic to Jonghyun's ears, but he just couldn't fight against the nose nuzzling his neck in such cute way. Thus, Jonghyun suppressed an amused smile as he complied; he liked to sit on Minho's lap particularly because of this: it was the only time in which he reached Minho's eye level—Jonghyun would never confess that out loud but yeah, _maybe_ he had a bit of Napoleon complex.

Minho's eyes… Damn, they never failed at leaving Jonghyun dumbfounded. They didn't own exotic color, like gray or blue; they were plain brown— _chocolate_. Nonetheless, those big, _huge_ eyes looked at him so intensely that he just couldn't resist them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he reminded the first song he wrote about Minho, called “Odd Eye”, right after they met each other. Jonghyun could have never predicted, not even in a hundred years, that one day Choi Minho— _the_ Choi Minho—would be at his mercy, would be coming _undone_ under his touches.

As he felt the jet of hot come hitting his stomach, Jonghyun almost dared to say a word about the tall man's _fast release_ , but he concluded it wasn't time to wisecrack—he knew Minho had been desperate for _it_ as much as him, especially when taking into account the whole pressure he had been enduring during his comeback.

Actually, Jonghyun preferred to come for last because then he had the opportunity of drinking in Minho's complete attention—he bet this was due to the man's pride; Minho would never allow himself to leave a lover unsatisfied. This known, it didn't take long for Jonghyun to feel Minho fisting his cock with more precise and overwhelming moves, while his hand that had been previously lying on the professor's left hip decided to get bolder and grab one of his ass cheeks in earnest.

A roar-like sound left Jonghyun's lips upon Minho's sudden daring demeanor, making him thrust eagerly in the man's fist. Jonghyun's nails would surely leave prints on Minho's back, for the older man' grip was as intense as the way he had his eyes closed in pleasure.

Mouth wide open gasping silently, sweat coating the come splashed on his abdomen, Jonghyun came with all his might—he would have felt ashamed of that if Minho hadn't been in the same situation as him a few minutes ago. Minho prevented them both from getting dirtier by enclosing Jonghyun's cock head with his hand; the fluid was completely contained and only a muffled splutter could be heard.

Jonghyun's head dropped on Minho's chest with a heavy thud; his breathing uneven and loud whereas Minho was taking deep, measured breaths—they were both airless. "Well… I liked that," the tall man said, his low voice filled with enthusiasm even though he was still heaving.

Jonghyun had his eyes closed, and Minho would have thought he was asleep if he hadn't replied, "Come home with me and you'll get _way_ more…" This wasn't said in more than a whisper, "I have a comfortable bed, and _lots_ of lube and condoms."

"Fuck yeah," there was such sudden gusto on Minho's tone that they both ended up laughing.

"Fuck yeah _literally_ ," Jonghyun agreed.

* * *

 _Fuck, shit, fucking shit_. Kibum loathed cursing, but he just couldn't think straight— _what the fuck_?! He had no _fucking_ clue how to behave in this sort of situation; there was certainly no page on WikiHow about "How To Act When You Catch Your (gay) Professor Having (gay) Sex"—Kibum didn't know what to do! So now he was stuck in Jonghyun's restroom, yeah, because no way _in hell_ he would get out while his professor was dancing horizontal tango. Okay, they weren't in the horizontal position, but the idea was basically the same.

What if he was caught? _Holy fuck_ , he would be _so_ screwed. Kibum would definitely be fucked up if Jonghyun found him, but now that he had seen _this_ … The young man wouldn't be getting out of this office alive. Kibum had held his breath when he saw through the crack of the door the two men wrestling amid kisses and touches, for he knew what was about to happen—he knew it all too well.

After realization hit him and left him astonished, his first instinct was to shove his back against the restroom's closest wall; hitting his head hard on the tiles in the process, but Kibum didn't give it a fuck since he had just found out his highly regarded professor was gay. Kim Jonghyun was _gay_. (Well, that explained why Jonghyun was so oblivious to his female students' flirting.) And his partner? Damn, Kibum recognized that man for sure, how couldn't he? He loved Choi Minho's songs, the man had _the_ voice for rapping. And his lyrics were the best—he had no idea how someone young like him could make up such catching rhythms and come up with those unimaginable rhymes.

The rapper's performances were always extremely manly, and he could have any woman on her knees within the snap of a finger thanks to his six-pack abs. Still, now that Kibum stopped to think about, Choi Minho had never shown a girlfriend to the public eye before—and the actresses with whom he played romantic parts didn't count. It was as clear as day: Choi Minho was gay— _a hundred percent_ gay, otherwise he wouldn't be touching Jonghyun like _that_.

Damn, how looks could be so deceiving.

Kibum's both ears were covered by his hands, however he could still hear moans and whispers of adoration and love. _Love_. He hadn't known Jonghyun for long, but it was crystal clear to him—the look on Jonghyun's eyes, the rush in his actions; these weren't due to arousal only. It was love, and Kibum sensed that this was Jonghyun's real muse—Choi Minho.

Jonghyun was gay and seemed to be dating Choi Minho—so what? It didn't affect Kibum's life in any way, correct? It did affect Key's though—Jonghyun was gay, so why sticking to the female-disciples-only thing? It didn't make any sense; the man was gay, he liked _dick_. Maybe he did that so people wouldn't doubt his sexual orientation?

Either way, it didn't change the fact that Kibum was in a dead-end right now—what should he do? Before he could start freaking out once more, he was stopped by a loud laughter. _So they have finished_ , Kibum presumed—people didn't laugh like _that_ when having sex. A glimpse through the crack showed him the top of Choi Minho's head shaking almost convulsively, and Jonghyun displaying a pleased and amused expression as he stood up. Even though it had been just a quick look, Kibum could clearly distinguish how wobbly his professor's legs were.

"Let me get you some tissues," he heard Jonghyun's voice, and his mind's eye acted on its own—Kibum could see _it_ , Jonghyun's unexpectedly muscular chest coated with dried come. No, no, no; he shook his head furiously in order to shoo away these inappropriate thoughts—they'd better be nipped in the bud. He had long ago got ridden of _it_ , and he was proud of staying _clean_ for so much time. _Remember about grandma, remember about grandma_ , Kibum ordered himself.

The answer was almost hushed due to Choi Minho's baritone voice, "There's no need to." Finding it strange that after this nothing else could be heard, Kibum peeked through the crack again.

Yep, worst decision _ever_ —Choi Minho was now standing before Jonghyun, licking something off his own right hand while the professor was simply staring at him, thunderstruck. Taking into account Jonghyun's shock, Kibum had a pretty good guess on what that "something" was.

Choi Minho found his boyfriend's wide open eyes funny, "Are you appreciating the view, eh?"

Jonghyun schooled his features, his previous awe look leaving him, "Oh, sure, I couldn't help it." Although there was a hint of wit on his tone, surprise was still present in it.

"I don't blame you, I'm such a beautiful view, after all," Choi Minho gave him a cocksure smile. _Damn, he is still fucking gorgeous even having that insolent attitude_ ; Kibum could understand completely why Jonghyun had fallen for that man.

Jonghyun rolled his eyes; he looked untouched by the other's charm. "You sass…" He trailed off, a blank look suddenly taking over his face.

"Here we go again…" Choi Minho sighed as if disappointed in the other man, but there was an evident, entertained smile on his lips. Jonghyun didn't seem to have heard his "complaint", for he was too busy searching for something inside his desk's last drawer. He took a hardcover black notebook out of it, and Kibum frowned at that—he had never seen Jonghyun use said object before.

Choi Minho wasn't startled by the professor's sudden change of focus, indicating that he was used to it—he just walked over to the desk, close to the man, and got a tissue box from the first drawer in order to clean himself. Jonghyun was now sat on his usual chair, writing down something on his notebook—his left hand was moving fast across the paper, and Kibum could recognize these moves anywhere; Jonghyun was _writing lyrics_.

Kibum felt a twinge of jealousy upon realizing that—Key had never inspired Jonghyun like _this_ —, but he let go of it because it was just too stupid; this wasn't a competition of some sort. A loud hip hop beat snapped him out of his thoughts, and he raised his eyes in time to see Choi Minho's face get even cockier, whereas Jonghyun clicked his tongue in clear frustration.

"That's my alarm," he informed, letting go hesitantly of his pen and notebook. "I must go now, I gotta teach in a building all the way across campus," Jonghyun sighed as he stood up.

"Then let me help you," asked Choi Minho, getting more tissues out of the box so he could clean the professor's abdomen. Jonghyun gave a small smile at that, and Kibum suspected that it was probably due to a private joke of theirs. He also couldn't help but wonder if Jonghyun was a closeted gym freak; there was no need for him to be _that_ muscular.

He was retrieving his clothes from the floor when Choi Minho finally spoke up, "I like your alarm song, by the way." He was leaning on Jonghyun's desk, a sly smirk on his lips—his nakedness made this all way amusing.

"You just couldn't keep it quiet, could you?" He dodged the other's remark, starting to button up his wear shirt. His words were annoyed, yet he sounded embarrassed; actually, Kibum was almost sure that Jonghyun's cheeks were tinged with red right now.

"Of course I couldn't," Choi Minho said it naturally. "My debut song though?" He furrowed his forehead as if in disapproval, watching Jonghyun put on his shoes.

"It is so catching, what can I do?" The professor shrugged, grinning upon noticing the other's mild puzzlement. "I really have to go right now," he left his blazer unbuttoned, and turned to Choi Minho, "Are you going to take a shower?" He asked after taking note of the men's chest still coated with come and sweat.

"Yeah; you still have towels in here, right?" Jonghyun nodded at his question, and he kept on, "Am I supposed to wait for you here or do you think it's better for me to meet you at your place?"

Jonghyun went over to Choi Minho to stand before him, "Whatever suits you." He laid a hand on the man's right cheek; Kibum finally noticed the _comical_ height difference between the two of them, and he had to stifle a chuckle by pressing one of his hands against his mouth. "See you later, hon?"

"See you later, hyung," there was such assurance on Choi Minho's tone that Kibum concluded that it was their first time seeing each other after a _long_ time. He closed his eyes when they kissed—it wasn't out of disgust; Kibum was no homophobic. It was a too intimate moment, and he had already wounded their privacy too much.

Plus… Hadn't Choi Minho just said that he would take a _shower_? Kibum moved away from the door, looking at the shower by his side with dread in his eyes. Yep, Choi Minho was definitely coming here. Kibum was definitely going to be caught red-handed. Yay.

All sounds ceased outside, and Kibum knew _this was it_. He was so fucked up. Bye-bye, Jinki, Taemin, mom, dad.

The door was opened.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun has good taste in men, and Kibum learns why students shouldn't talk back to professors.

The first thing that Minho saw was the pink hair—even though it was just a light shade, it was still quite eye-catching. He then realized that hair was usually accompanied by people, so he wasn't alone.

Oh, and Minho was naked.

He covered his private parts with his hands as fast as it was humanly possible, and thanked God for having the idea of getting his clothes before heading for the restroom, for the crumpled fabric now assured him nothing could be seen— _anymore_.

The boy before him seemed to be as uncomfortable as him—boy? He should be around Minho's own age, actually. Colorful hair, fashionable clothes, an apparently unwavering stance; Minho couldn't care less about the student's posture though. The only worry ringing inside the rapper's mind right now was: _Jonghyun is going to kill me…_ (Ironic enough, the "boy" was thinking exactly the same.)

The student was gazing hard at him as if he wished to start a staring contest, but his tremulous legs gave his nervousness away. Still, he was the one who mustered up enough courage to break the silence, "Hey, how are you doing?" Wow, that was quite an unusual question for this kind of situation.

Minho just wasn't in condition to answer that, "Well, that's mortifying." He confessed, scratching his nape with one of his hands while making sure not to show anything M-rated.

"Yeah, you have no idea." The student sounded flustered like Minho himself, standing in the middle of the small restroom with a "busted" expression on his face.

Minho raised an eyebrow at that, "I don't? I'm the one with no pants on. I guarantee you I have it far worse than you." He was too embarrassed to try laughing at his own expense.

"On a second thought, you're right," the student pursed his lips thoughtfully as if he was indeed evaluating Minho's statement. He then laid aside his somewhat collected demeanor, his eyes exhibiting something akin to desperation. "Please, don't tell Professor Kim Jonghyun," he practically implored, haste almost making him choke on the name.

Minho narrowed his eyes at the student's pleading; it looked like the boy didn't know that Minho had as much on the line as he did. He feigned having the upper hand, "This is what you're going to do: you'll wait for me while I take a shower," the student grimaced a bit at that, sensing only now the sex scent impregnated on Minho. He pretended not to notice that as he concluded his sentence, "Then we're going to talk in a civilized manner."

The student seemed to have regained his coolness thanks to Minho's calm instructions, "It's a deal." He even dared to shrug after saying this, passing by the tall man on his way out of the restroom.

"Hey," Minho called him when he had already reached Jonghyun's desk, "What's your name?"

The student halted his steps, turning around so he could face the other man, "Kim Kibum."

"Now that I know your name, I advise you not to try running away while I'm in the shower," the words were supposed to be menacing, but the man's charming smile and big honest eyes ruined them, making them sound somehow like a pick-up line.

Both corners of Kim Kibum's mouth quirked up as he crossed his arms over his chest, taking on an expectant pose, "Sure, _Choi Minho_."

Maybe this guy wasn't as clueless as Minho had first presumed him to be.

* * *

Kibum had a challenging smirk on his lips as he enunciated his order to the coffee shop waitress—it was the most expensive drink on the menu and Minho would take care of the bill, obviously. His antics didn't seem to provoke an evident reaction on the rapper's part, but Kibum knew better—Minho's fingers tapping nervously against his own leg didn't go unnoticed by the student.

At first, Kibum had really thought that he was done for good—Minho would tell Jonghyun, Jonghyun would tell the dean, and the dean would expel him—; however, he realized something during his short talk with Minho back in the university: Minho was in trouble as much as Kibum himself. The rapper couldn't simply pay the dean a visit with the purpose of reporting Kibum's misdeeds, since he would end up giving away all the sex he had with Jonghyun in his office.

Kibum's and Minho's hands were equally tied, and the only way of getting both of them away with this (while keeping as much dignity as possible) was through a fair deal. Of course Kibum intended to enjoy it to the fullest, and he could also have some fun while at it—maybe he liked the way the tall man got flustered every time he threw an innuendo regarding the office incident. Kibum didn't consider himself a mean person for doing this—hey, when life gives you lemons, you might as well make lemonade. And sometimes the lemonade was actually a XL cup of coffee with double cream, chocolate chips and additional cookies.

When the waitress came back with their orders, Minho thanked her in a low voice, afraid of being recognized even though he had his face cloaked by a hoodie, a cap and some sunglasses that he'd gotten from his car's glove compartment on their way to the coffee shop. Minho waited for the woman to be out of earshot before finally saying, "I think we are both aware of our current situation."

Kibum raised an eyebrow at that, lips enveloping the straw before him as he took a sip of his drink. He swallowed quickly so he could question, "And our current situation is…?" He trailed off suggestively.

"We both need each other's silence, so we can make a deal and get on with our lives as if nothing had happened." Minho said it matter-of-factly, bringing his cup filled with black coffee to his lips so he could drink it.

"In other words, I keep my mouth shut about Choi Minho being gay and dating the lyricist Kim Jonghyun," Kibum stressed the names for the sake of emphasis, "and in return you won't tell anyone that I snuck into professor Jonghyun's office?"

Minho nodded, placing his cup back on the table, "Yeah, you've summed up pretty much everything."

Upon seeing Minho shrug before him, Kibum couldn't help snorting, "How can you just leave it at that?" He sounded disbelieving, eyes narrowing as they aimed a dubious look at the man's perfect and lax frame.

"Well, I trust in you." Minho stated as if it was the most obvious fact ever, which only made Kibum deepen his frown. They hadn't had the most cordial exchanges, and they'd been talking for, like, only one hour so far—how the hell could someone deem a total stranger worthy of trust so quickly?

"I'm afraid this trust isn't mutual," there was no sign of regret in Kibum's polite words. He resumed sipping his expensive drink, turning a blind eye to the dismay present in Minho's gaze across the table.

"Why? I have more at stake than you; I can assure you I'll keep my lips sealed." Was Minho giving Kibum puppy eyes for real?

The blond had to put a hand in front of his mouth so he wouldn't snicker impolitely at that—this was all too funny for him to hold it in. He had been keeping up with Minho's promotions for some time now due to his _minor_ addiction to music programs, so Kibum knew Minho had tried out quite diverse concepts throughout the years—bad boy, heartbroken boy, passionate boy—, but he had always sung in such _manly_ manner that the blond would never expect to get puppy eyes from him of all people.

Kibum cleared his throat, turning mentally his back to his thoughts, "Can you prove me that? Can you guarantee me you won't run off and tell Professor Jonghyun everything when you meet him afterwards?"

Minho almost choked on his coffee, practically panicking at Kibum’s hypothesis, "Fuck no, there's no way I could do that." The student grimaced briefly at the sudden curse; he considered asking Minho not to swear, but that would be too hypocrite of him—after all, how many times had Kibum himself cursed today? He wasn't proud of that though. "If he finds out a student saw him with me, he'll probably go on a sex strike or something," Minho almost winced at this thought alone, red tingeing his cheeks briefly.

"So you're shooting in the dark by trusting in me. Are you sure you don't intend to buy my silence or anything like that?" Kibum suggested. Truth be told, he was asking that just to mess with Minho; he wanted no money.

"I _know_ you have no interest in what I can offer you," A knowing look took over Minho's features as he said that, overwhelming Kibum—really, those big eyes made everything a thousand times more intense.

"What the hell, how can you say that?" He sounded fairly flustered for being read so easily.

"According to your looks, it's pretty obvious that you're from a well-off family. What do you need my money for?" Minho shrugged once more, and only then Kibum understood why he had been displaying a peace of mind that was completely opposite to his awkwardness back in the restroom—Minho had already grasped their situation (and its solution) for some time now. 

" _Maybe_ you're right," Kibum retorted in a low voice, and busied himself with his drink right away as an excuse not to say anything else.

" _Maybe_?" Minho pursed his lips, but he preferred not to press the matter any further, "Anyhow, you seem to be an honest person, so you wouldn't be easily bought, right?" He winked at the blond, who rolled his eyes in response.

"Stop flattering me."

Minho giggled shortly, finding Kibum's pissed off face way more amusing than it truly was. "I don't flatter people; I really think you're a good guy." The student flashed him an ironic grin, and Minho insisted, "I'll show you I'm saying the truth," he spoke with an assuring tone, but the always wary Kibum didn't feel convinced by it at all.

Paying no mind to Kibum's skepticism, Minho extended his hand so he could grab the other's cell phone, which had been set aside on the table right when they sat down in the coffee shop.

"Hey, what are you doing? Gimme it back," he complained straightaway, clearly upset by the man's actions.

"I'm inserting my number on your contacts list," Minho answered, eyes glued to the screen as he typed. "Let's be friends," he added as he handed the cell phone over to its rightful owner.

"Oh, look at you acting all friendly and sweet after going to my professor's office to rub crotches with him," Kibum's words were filled with venom, but Minho didn't look offended by them, his charming smile persisting on his lips.

"You have a sharp tongue, I like that," the tall man praised him and Kibum lowered his head, an uncomfortable sensation poking his gut for getting such enthusiastic reply from Minho after having treated him so badly. Their conversation quieted down after that—Minho finished his coffee and decided to stare out at the window closest to their table, whereas Kibum kept on indulging to his drink's sweetness in silence. Feeling a bit weird for being the only one still eating, he mutely offered a cookie to Minho, who accepted it happily. "Thank you."

Kibum shrugged as a sign of "don't mention it", for his mouth was full at the moment.

"Thank you," Minho repeated, turning his head to look Kibum in the eye. The blond was about to gesture another "you're welcome" when the rapper said, "Thank you very much for not judging me for being gay."

Kibum's eyes doubled their size as he realized the deep meaning behind these simple words. Of course Minho was on a tightrope due to his sexual orientation. When in this kind of situation, the person should worry about their parents' opinion only, but Minho's circumstances were far worse—by admitting who he truly was, he would betray the expectations of the _whole country_. The man definitely had it hard; with this in mind, Kibum had a little trouble swallowing before managing to reply, "It's your life, do whatever you want." Though his words were mindless, they were said with care and respect.

Minho sighed—it was a heavy sigh, one that had left Kibum's lips too a _long_ time ago. "I wish everybody thought like you."

* * *

Key was having a hard time concealing his excitement.

This morning he woke up to his cell phone beeping. At first he had cursed internally whoever in their right mind thought it was fine texting him before 6 A.M.; yet when he read the sender id, he started seeing everything pink-colored out of the blue.

 _Kim Jonghyun_.

It was a short text: in a nutshell, Jonghyun asked him to go to the university earlier than usual so he could give him some lessons—lessons on _lyric-writing_. Kibum stared at the screen for some time as he took in the information. When it finally sunk in, he was filled with enthusiasm enough to keep himself going for the rest of the day with a dumb smile on his lips.

He had been ravished by a hurricane of emotions since then; nervousness when knocking on the office's door, anxiety when first seeing Jonghyun today, enthusiasm when sitting down across his professor's desk. This was his first time feeling like a true disciple of Jonghyun's, and it was a bit embarrassing how fast his heart was beating due to that thought alone.

Key was so lost amid these foreign sensations that he didn't even mind sitting on _the_ chair—emphasis on the definite article; he would never be able to refer to it as a mere piece of furniture after having seen what took place on it a couple of days ago. Key also pretended not to see how Jonghyun seemed to grow more tired day by day; he could presume some _reasons_ for his professor to stay up later than usual.

He preferred to overlook all of this for the time being; Jonghyun had willingly come to college earlier because of _him_ —because of Key. Maybe this fact helped to puff up Key's ego way more than it was healthily acceptable.

Key was drumming his fingers against the armrest as he saw Jonghyun place silently piles of papers on his desk. The professor interrupted his actions, a short chuckle escaping from his lips, "Geez, just calm down, will you? I can hear your heart racing from here." Although this was supposed to be a censure, his amused tone turned it into a simple remark. Nonetheless, Key's cheeks got red—it wasn't his fault, he couldn't control his own heartbeat.

He contemplated briefly how he should answer that—play the shy one? God, no, Key had never been like that, and he wouldn't start now. So artful playfulness be it, "What can I do? You have kept this girl waiting for too long." He puckered his lipstick-covered lips as if blowing a kiss to the man across the desk.

Jonghyun laughed loudly at that, mouth wide open—this truly bothered Key sometimes. The man had this somewhat annoying habit of laughing like he was flaunting his happiness for the whole world to see it—something like "Hey, look at me, I'm _soooo_ happy!" And it usually happened all of a sudden when the office was drowned in silence, which gave Key jump scares every _single_ time.

Key waited patiently for the professor to calm down, but somewhere in the middle of it he had a realization: Jonghyun never seemed to take his teasing seriously. Actually, Key only kept doing it because he _knew_ the man wouldn't get him wrong and think he was hitting on his professor. After all, Jonghyun was gay and _taken_ (no, yesterday hadn't been a nightmare as Kibum wished; he had Choi Minho's number on his phone book to prove that—unfortunately), which meant that Key was standing on a rather safe ground regarding his "improper" pestering around the professor.

Plus, this fact now gave Kibum a feeling of safeness when alone with the man—the student would die of shame if he had to confess it out loud; however, due to his tendency to over-dramatizing everything inside his mind, he had at first seen Jonghyun as a sort of "bad wolf." No, Kibum wasn't weird for thinking that; if anything, Jonghyun was the one at fault—and the professor didn't help at all by owning an ungraspable personality and having this kinky-like demand for female disciples only.

The sound of paper against wood caused by Jonghyun setting down the last stack of documents on his desk snapped Key out of his thoughts. "What are those?" He asked even though he actually knew the answer—he had caught a glimpse of amateur love rhymes written on the paper sheet on top of one of the ordered piles, so these should be the assignments the professor had tasked his Lyrics Interpretation class with.

"Do you remember the homework I assigned to a class of mine?" Jonghyun didn't give the younger time to reply, "I'm going to introduce you to the basics of lyric-writing by looking over what they have come up with."

Key frowned, trying to keep up with his professor's train of thought. He licked his lips before finally questioning, hesitation dripping from his speech, "Does the university even allow that? There must be something in the rules regarding students' privacy and all that jazz—"

"Key," Jonghyun called him out, interrupting the student and making him promptly close his mouth. The man's face was serious, no traces of his previous careless behavior left behind, "Do you really want to do this according to the rules? So lame." Jonghyun rolled his eyes in a mocking manner, and Key was taken aback by his sudden playful voice.

He shrugged, trying to keep intact as much of his dignity as possible—okay, maybe this hadn't been one of his brightest moments; demanding to follow the rules when he himself had broken them in so many ways was stupid, all right. This was simply Key's top-grade student instincts kicking in, nothing that he couldn't shrug off. "Whatever. Show me what you've got," Key tried to convey all his determination into his voice; his stance growing resolute as he took a notepad and a pencil out of his purse.

"That's what I'm talking about," Jonghyun praised quietly as he noticed the other's eagerness to learn. He got an assignment from the pile on the center of the desk, and started to point out what he deemed important while showing Key the lyrics. Jonghyun tried to suppress a delighted snicker as he saw the girl take notes of everything he was saying—this was great; correction: _Key_ was great. He was very eager to teach her how to make good use of her full potential.

This was a good change of scenario—a disciple who _really_ wished to learn.

When they finished looking over all homework from the stack chosen by Jonghyun, Key turned to him with apologetic eyes as if asking for more. Once again, the professor had to restrain himself from laughing at her thirst for knowledge—he had to admit it was actually a bit cute though. "I suppose we're done?" Key sounded interrogative despite it being an affirmation, a hint of longing on her voice.

"Yes," Jonghyun answered anyway, refraining himself from pitying the girl as he gazed into her pleading brown eyes. He rose from his seat after taking off his glasses so he could stretch himself; a low yawn falling from his lips during the process. Damn, he was sleeping too late; there was no way he could keep up with this routine for too long. He'd have to ask Minho to come up with another schedule for their encounters—going on dates at early morning wasn't working out for them.

"Hey, what's that?" This was asked in a naive, curious voice—Key had faked it though. He recognized very well the black hardcover notebook hidden under one of the piles of paper, and he saw the chance of getting his hands on it while Jonghyun was too busy stretching himself.

The professor halted his moves abruptly, "Key, don't you dare—" He stopped his own threat because he himself knew it was too late.

Key had the notebook opened before him, dead-on the page that displayed the lyrics written _that day_.

_Beyond fourth dimensional, a miraculous view; sweetly dip it in and eat the fondue of light_

His eyes were darting across the words, trying to retain as much content as possible out of fear of Jonghyun taking the object from his hands at any instant.

_Tonight is the night—it’s alright if it’s a bit rough, act more sensitive_

Jonghyun sat down with a sigh as if acknowledging his failure at controlling Key—what could he do? He wouldn't take his notebook from her as he'd do to a kid; that's stupid. She wanted to read it so bad, so she might as well tell him her opinion—after all, Key had already proved herself a good reviewer.

_It’s alright if it’s weird, the moment you pass the limit of your sleeping senses_

Jonghyun started tapping absentmindedly at his desk with a pen, his right foot moving to a rhythm that could be heard only by him. If Key stayed any longer in silence, the professor would resort to nail biting as a means to relieve his pent-up apprehension.

_Now slowly lift your head, kiss me on my eyes. To that beautiful place; take me to that beautiful place_

"Well, that's interesting," Key spoke his mind at last.

"You always have so much to say. That's it?" Jonghyun raised an eyebrow, something akin to disappointment on his voice. Actually, he did know Key wished to say more—this "interesting" of hers was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Well…" Key started again, trailing off shortly. The impatient and yet expectant look on his professor's face made him want to giggle—once more Key's egomania was showing; he felt strangely proud of himself for having the man restless for his opinion. As he disliked torturing people (for too long), he fired point-blank, "I find it interesting that you talked about the experience itself rather than about the sexual partner—and I see what you did there, the lyrics' true meaning is hidden in between the lines." He winked coyly at Jonghyun, earning a chuckle from the professor. "You know those stupid, love songs that state romanticized things like 'oh, sex is only good when I have it with you, baby'?" Key let out a fake moan at the end, and he saw both corners of Jonghyun's mouth quirk up a bit in a humorous smile. "Sex itself can be a pretty good experience, and I think your lyrics expressed this in a great way."

Jonghyun schooled his features, not letting out a mere sign of emotion, but Key sensed he was in deep thought. He pondered on snapping his fingers before the professor's eyes so he would get out his trance, but Jonghyun beat him to it, "Congratulations." This single word was said in a neutral tone.

"For what?" Key inquired, furrowing his forehead. He had kind of expected the man to tell him his interpretation was wrong, so he wasn't prepared for that approval-like look aimed at him.

"Congratulations for being the first woman I've met who is able to keep a straight face while talking about sex," the praise on Jonghyun's voice was honest.

Key appeared to be unfazed by his statement, yet it was all a façade. Truth be told, he was flushing red inwardly right now, but Jonghyun didn't have to know that, right? "I dislike playing prude," he told the professor while handing the notebook back. Key crossed his legs one over another, feeling suddenly a bit self-conscious due to their current talking point. "So, why did you feel so inspired out of the blue? Had some fun over the weekend?" He smiled playfully at his own innuendo, and for a brief second Key thought he had seen Jonghyun blush, "Or maybe SM requested you lyrics?" This was a decoy, of course—Key wanted to change the subject _and_ make Jonghyun talk more about his work; this way he'd kill two birds with one stone.

The professor felt like laughing at Key's inquisitive look—did she really think that he hadn't noticed she was trying to get information out of him? It was so obvious that Jonghyun considered feeling insulted by it—did she take him for a fool or something? Anyway, Key was specially dazzling at the moment, and she seemed to be the perfect mood booster with those shiny, cat eyes and that sly, charming grin of hers. Maybe she deserved being cut some slack today, "SM can't request me any more lyrics ever since I started teaching; I've made a deal with them."

"Whoa, SM accepted one's demands?" Key looked incredulous with both eyebrows furrowed, a crease forming on the gap between them. "I bet they only did it because you make lots of money," his previously sly grin turned into a knowing one.

Jonghyun laughed at that as if Key had told him the funniest joke ever, even so a note of frustration and skepticism could be heard on it. "I earn around ten cents for each download; we all know whom the rest of the money goes to. I got a better payment during the time I wrote all OST songs they asked me to—I hated it though." Jonghyun's face twisted into a displeased grimace as his reminiscences arose in his mind. "It was as if I had become a lyrics machine since I started to write them almost automatically, no emotion whatsoever in my melodies; thus these ended up being my worst lyrics."

Key clicked her tongue at that, unhappiness shadowing her peculiar features. "So now you only write when you feel like it?" She questioned, and her somewhat hopeful tone gave Jonghyun the feeling that she was trying to see the bright side of his story. This trait of hers was funny—although Key took on a spoiled and sharp demeanor most of the time, she still had her unguarded moments, which gave her a more childish look. It amused Jonghyun greatly.

"Yes, and I'm pretty happy. I think I'm truly able to write better lyrics in my current situation." Even though he sounded as if he didn't have a single worry in mind, the lyrics Jonghyun had written introduced him to a well-known concern of his—one that always came and went from time to time when he got inspired by _Minho_. A quick look at his lyrics later in the day after wrapping them up showed Jonghyun no immediate bother; there were no explicit details like “hey, I’m dating the most popular rapper of South Korea and this songs’s about him”. Thank God.

"In other words," Key's voice awakened him, "You earned a good sum of money when writing bad lyrics, and now that you write fine songs you get almost nothing. How stupid." The student rolled his eyes, glaring momentarily at the wooden desk as if it was guilty for the music industry's flaws.

"That's art for you," Jonghyun sounded untouched by the other's disappointment—he had long ago accepted this reality even though he didn't agree with it. "Do you think you are able to endure it?" The professor asked bluntly; he wouldn't comfort Key nor go easy on her.

Key pursed his lips, a challenging look erasing all his previous uneasiness. "Yes, because—unlike you—I don't intend to stick to one area only. I'll write, sing and dance." He was clearly resolute in it, his voice bearing sheer certainty when pronouncing each word. Jonghyun feigned obliviousness to the underlined somewhat rudeness present in her sentence. 

"Do you believe you have what it takes?" The professor questioned, his expression being taken over by a serious feeling. Jonghyun was evidently pressing Key, and he hoped she wouldn't take it lightly—after all, if she wanted to become a lyricist for real, then she needed to learn about all her future obstacles and difficulties. Jonghyun might glamour everything up when it came to lyrics, but he didn't do it out of the paper.

Cat eyes narrowed at this inquiry, and a wide braggy smile curled Key's lips. "I don't _believe_ ; I know I _do_ ," he pretended not to see the disbelieving look on the elder's face—it wouldn't make Kibum waver. As if to prove his determination, Key turned to the professor with a whole new look on his eyes—something close to expectation; "Do I have any homework, professor?" Not so subtle change of subject struck again; the student eyeing suggestively the remaining stacks of assignments placed before him.

Jonghyun explained right away, dropping their previous discussion— _maybe_ Key wasn't supposed to have so much power over their talks. "Oh, no, these ones here," he pointed to the pile on his left side, "are just average assignments; there's nothing special about them." Key snickered in response; God, what would students think if they heard their professor talking like that about their precious homework?

The third pile, which seemed to have been neglected by Jonghyun, caught Key's eyes, so he tried reading the papers from his seat on the chair out of curiosity—this stack was particularly lower than the other two, and it had been set close to the edge of the desk in such way that it was almost out of the professor's sight. Confusion began to seep slowly into Key as he made out a couple of lyrics, "Why didn't you show me these ones? They're superb!"

"Superb, you say?" Jonghyun repeated her words scornfully as he threw a glance filled with despise to said papers, to Key's puzzlement. "These are plagiarized assignments. Some students thought that they could deceive me by handing in old love songs' lyrics. A student even submitted one of my own works; I'm still trying to figure out if it was some sort of bad joke or they're just ignorant to this extent."

Jonghyun kept on speaking—again, his tendency to babbling showed up. However, his words fell on deaf ears because Key was in deep thought. He was too busy paying attention to all pictures that were currently flooding his mind like some sort of flashback only seen in movies—Kibum working hard to fill the blank paper sheet before him with lyrics, Kibum sighing as he realized he'd have to skip vocal training in order to finish his assignment, Kibum feeling like punching himself for forgetting to do the homework of a main subject, Kibum raising his fist in the air victoriously as he wrapped his song up; at last deeming it satisfactory. (At the time he pretended not to hear Jinki's low giggle as the elder walked right into this TV drama-like scene.)

And now there it was, his assignment placed on the stack of plagiarized works.

* * *

Jinki's cell phone vibrated for the umpteenth time since Kibum had come to their living room, the sound of it against the wooden table annoying the hell out of him. "Please, do ask your boyfriend to stop texting you. Shouldn't he be studying right now anyway?" He complained, sitting on the floor and with his back against the couch where his hyung was lying prostrate.

Unwilling to leave his lazy stance, Jinki extended his right hand towards the coffee table so that he'd seek blindly for his device. Kibum rolled his eyes at that and handed him the cell phone, which was near a music magazine that Jinki had given up on reading half an hour ago for the sake of getting some sleep.

"It isn't Taemin," his drowsy voice informed, a hint of weariness starting to color his speech as he promptly started typing a reply.

Kibum let go of the college article he was supposed to read (whatever, he had been staring at the same line for the past ten minutes), and frowned upon taking note of Jinki's fingers moving fast across his cell phone screen. "Who is it?" The blond disliked meddling, but he had never seen his hyung answer a message straightaway; Jinki was well-known for giving late replies, which often made Taemin whine about his boyfriend's slowness when texting.

"Your professor," a sigh left Jinki's lips as he indulged to Kibum's curiosity; locking his cell phone and setting it down on the floor. Kibum's puzzled look told Jinki his dongsaeng had no idea what he was talking about, "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you!" His exclamation would have sounded more apologetic if Jinki hadn't been so tired. "I'm composing the melody for Jonghyun's latest lyrics. This is my first time working with him, and I'm afraid he's so high-maintenance."

A shadow suddenly darkened Kibum's features at the mention of his professor's name; dreadfulness tingling his insides annoyingly. He didn't blame Jinki for bringing up the unwelcome subject though, since Kibum hadn't told him yet about the plagiary episode—partially because he was a hundred percent sure it was a mistake of Jonghyun's, and also because Jinki had been looking so exhausted for some days now that Kibum didn't wish to burden his hyung even more.

Oblivious to the blond's atypical silence, Jinki kept on talking, something so unlike him—Kibum could count on his fingers the number of times the elder had ever spoken more than a couple of sentences (usually filled with word puns) and complained _honestly_ about a matter. "He's been texting me all the time, telling me how the melody should go along with the lyrics… I haven't even sat before the piano to play something because this whole psychological pressure has killed any ideas I could have come up with."

Jinki's voice came to a halt, catching Kibum's attention—he hummed briefly to show he was still all ears, motivating his hyung to keep on speaking. This was enough to encourage Jinki, his melodic voice resonating across the room as he resumed talking. Kibum closed his eyes upon hearing such a musical tone, his head resting back lazily on the edge of the couch behind him. Even though he couldn’t see Jinki’s face from this angle, Kibum could easily picture his half-slit eyes staring sleepily into space as he spoke any and every thought that came to his mind.

Although Kibum was displaying a matching peaceful pose, he was internally enraged—so _Jonghyun_ was responsible for Jinki's current distressed state. He resisted the urge of clicking his tongue in disdain as he was flooded by sheer contempt; God, why must Jonghyun be so hard to deal with? The man was lovely and considerate, but he could be equally a pain in the ass neck too—these conflicting feelings drove Kibum mad.

He had at first idolized Jonghyun because of his lyrics, because of his talent. Even now, the blond couldn't turn a blind eye to Jonghyun's skill—the man had a _gift_ ; it was undeniable. Nonetheless, he acted so badly sometimes that Kibum wished to punch him in the face _so_ hard.

Jonghyun's temper was very annoying sometimes, but Kibum _kind of_ understood the reason behind it. It wasn't that the professor behaved like a spoiled brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth—he didn't have unreasonable requirements, he didn't order people around on a whim. The main point was: Jonghyun was aware of his talent and his great knowledge of music; he was high-qualified for the music industry and had made little mistakes throughout the years, thus he developed too much confidence, growing cocky and demanding as consequence.

However, his demands were all for the sake of _music_ —Jonghyun breathed for music, Jonghyun lived for music. It was his number one passion.

And in the end, regardless of putting songwriters such as Jinki under pressure, all lyrics written by Jonghyun turned out to be just fantastic. And it all ended up being worth it—worth the apprehension of not meeting the lyricist's expectations, worth the possibility of being responsible for composing Jonghyun's first flop.

Too focused on his own thoughts, Kibum didn't notice how Jinki was gradually quieting down; his groggy and yet melodic voice hitting lower octaves by each word he said, until silencing itself at last.

"Hyung, do you want some ice cream?" Kibum suggested, worried about Jinki's speechlessness. When he got no reply whatsoever back, he opened his eyes and turned his head so he could face the elder for the first time since they had started talking.

Kibum restrained himself from laughing contently as he caught sight of Jinki's shut eyes and serene face; his lips parted as he snored quietly. He covered his hyung with a blanket before leaving the room.

* * *

Jonghyun was a hardworking professor and no one could state otherwise. It took him one week only after the deadline to hand back all assignments; he had not only graded each one of them, but had also filled them with attentive notes to assist his students— _what did you mean to say in this verse?_ , _where's the song title?_ , _is this grammar mistake intentional?_

Kibum had his homework face down on his desk, just like it had been given to him by a student who volunteered helping the professor out. He knew he had done nothing wrong so there wasn't anything to fear, yet Kibum was frozen on his seat; stiff back hinting an uptight posture.

The blond wasn't ashamed of confessing that he had peeked at some of his classmates' papers, finding plenty of low grades and a considerable number of "F"s. Some of them even had red notes scribbled with an angry handwriting—Kibum shivered upon this glimpse; what if his assignment had one of these notes too?

The whole class was tumultuous, students talking to each other about their grades, comparing notes and whispering complaints among themselves—obviously, nobody had the guts to say them loud enough for Jonghyun to hear.

Said professor walked over to the center of the classroom stage, standing still on this spot as he waited for everybody to cool down. Kibum starting biting his lower lip in dread after catching sight of Jonghyun's expressionless face and glassy eyes, for he had long ago learned these weren't a good sign. Maybe it had been Kibum's fruitful imagination playing tricks on him, but he could swear that Jonghyun threw him a glare—it was too fast for Kibum to be sure though.

One by one, each student piped down upon noticing the patient and yet serious look of the professor's. Some of them were too slow and kept on talking in a low voice, shutting up only after earning a couple of indignant "shh" from their classmates.

Jonghyun opened his mouth to speak just when everyone had complied with his mute request; the ac's buzzing being the only background noise. "I don't know if I'm disappointed or pleased with you," the tension among the students was practically tangible, all of them displaying wary faces upon hearing the evident discontent on Jonghyun's voice. "Some of you handed in great lyrics, and I enjoyed them very much although you missed one thing or another. It doesn't matter though; I didn't expect you to write perfect lyrics since I've never taught you that." Some classmates relaxed at that, their stance growing more comfortable on their seats as they took note of the hinted pride seen on their professor's features.

"However," Jonghyun started, and that was it. All praise present in his body language was drowned by such powerful chagrin that all students retrieved their anxious pose; the classroom being filled by gloomy faces. "However, some of you were way over the top when it came to plagiarism. A student even submitted one of Kenzie's works; are you kidding me?" A couple of bold (or plain stupid) students dared chuckling at that—it was an idiotic thing to do indeed; Kenzie was a lyricist as famous as Jonghyun himself, so people easily recognized her lyrics.

The professor pretended not to hear the quiet laughter, resuming his lecture, "You're all getting your degree in less than a year, and that's how you act? Taking the shortcut is _never_ the solution." Some students gaped at that, surprised by Jonghyun's firmness—it was their first time seeing the professor behave in such way. "I'm very disappointed in you, but that's beside the point—after all, I won't be your future boss, so _I couldn't care less about your conduct_. Nonetheless, good luck finding a job with that attitude of yours." These words were a great slap on all plagiarists' faces.

Someone behind Kibum was sobbing softly—it was that girl, the annoying one who had been the first student to hand in the assignment. He rolled his eyes—no, Kibum didn't feel even a shred of sympathy for her, and she didn't deserve any comfort from him. Still, all these thoughts died as Kibum realized he had other matters in hand right now.

Like the fact that Kim Jonghyun was definitely staring straight at him.

His eyes—they weren't as dissatisfied as before, but they carried such puzzlement that Kibum could almost sense it seeping into himself, making more and more questions born inside his mind. The blond pondered on raising his hand and clearing up all these torturous doubts once and for all, but he knew better than to do such reckless thing before the whole classroom. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kibum reminded himself that he wasn't Key at the moment; he wouldn't get away with challenging his professor like his girl-self did.

A staring contest started unbeknownst to the other students; Jonghyun didn't seem to be willing to avert his eyes as much as the blond. Their gaze matched in intensity, yet Kibum's also had something akin to confusion since he was clueless of what was happening between them; his own innocence being the only thing Kibum was sure of—and shame on Jonghyun if he believed otherwise.

When Jonghyun's lips parted so he could speak, Kibum knew the following words were directed to him, "Make sure you read the notes I've written on your homework."

After such an obvious instruction, Kibum finally mustered up his courage and threw his apprehension to the wind, grabbing his assignment at last. It was there, in a red and somewhat tired handwriting: _Meet me after class_.

Kibum had gotten his first "F".

* * *

Kim Jonghyun didn't bother hiding his lingering letdown as he gave his lecture after his _tongue-lash_ , which Kibum was thankful for—it would have been too weird if the professor had pretended everything was all right while teaching.

Still, Kibum simply wasn't able to pay attention to the current lesson no matter how hard he tried, and he wasn't the only one—it looked like his classmates were in the same situation: many of them were staring out at the window, and almost no one was taking notes. They hadn't overcome the shock of seeing their professor so pissed off yet; however, Kibum's distracted state was due to something completely different: his mind seemed to be having _a great time_ picturing all worst-case scenarios upon the imminent meeting with Jonghyun.

 _It'll happen in thirty minutes_ , his mind whispered as he glanced at the clock on a wall nearby without meaning to. Kibum shook his head and waved his right hand briefly close to his ear, as if shooing away an annoying mosquito—needless to say, this action was ineffective in keeping pessimistic thoughts away from the blond.

Jonghyun's eyes didn't meet Kibum's for the whole lecture, but the younger knew it was due to him having slipped into his "professor persona"— _professors seldom stare at a particular student during class, but it doesn't mean we don't notice who isn't paying attention or understanding the lecture_ , Jonghyun had told him ( _Key_ ) that once.

When Jonghyun called it a day, Kibum was carried by his tremulous legs towards him, taking his sweet time so all students would have already exited the classroom when he finally got to the professor. _Again_ , Kibum knew he was innocent, yet he couldn't help getting nervous. Although it was silly of him to think that, Kibum wondered if Jonghyun was as anxious as he himself—he was aware that the chances were pretty slim though.

"Kim Kibum," he was greeted by the man, and he pursed his lips minimally upon hearing his own name. Darn, that wasn't good at all; professors only remembered the names of the best and worst students—taking into account Kibum's latest "F", he had a feeling he was the latter.

He swallowed uneasily, giving a quick look around to assure that there was no one else in the room before speaking up, "If I may ask, Professor Kim Jonghyun," Kibum remembered his grandmother telling him that politeness was the first step to achieve anything in life, "You gave me an 'F' grade based exactly on what?" His serene voice didn't match at all with the turmoil-like state his mind was in.

"That's why I requested you to meet me," Jonghyun suddenly displayed a professional stance, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge as he always did when in deep thought. "Obviously, plagiary has nothing to do with your low grade," he stated even though there was no need to; Kibum knew pretty well he had written his own lyrics.

He couldn't hold back his tongue, "I am aware of that." This remark might have sounded harmless, yet the way Jonghyun's eyes got suddenly rigid indicated that he understood the underlying complaint present in them— _then why the hell did I get this grade?_ "…Professor Jonghyun," the blond added, but he knew it was too late.

The professor didn't seem to react to that, "You forgot one small detail when doing your homework," Kibum heard a hint of irony in Jonghyun's tone when he said _small_ , "I asked for love-themed lyrics. I even played some love songs in class to help…" He trailed off, pursing his lips as he realized something, "You didn't come to class that day."

"No, I didn't." Kibum bit his right cheek, screaming in frustration inwardly as images of their talk in Jonghyun's office came up. _Politeness, Kibum, be polite_ ; "But what does the theme have to do with my assignment?"

Jonghyun froze for little more than two seconds, blinking at Kibum as if he had asked a dumb question. "Your lyrics don’t address love at all," he practically spelled it out, which annoyed the student—Kibum wasn't stupid or anything, that had been completely uncalled for. "And if I may add…" Jonghyun started once more, and the younger refrained himself from closing his eyes and groaning in exasperation; this was how Jonghyun began his monologues. "I didn't quite grasp your main topic, but I did get the gist of it, and I advise you to rethink the way you see women." His voice was more serious than normal, his lips pressed in a rigid line, "You must understand that generalization is a dangerous thing, and—"

The student cut him off at that, "Wait, what? What are you talking about?" No, Kibum wasn't going to be polite right now; he had the feeling that Jonghyun would soon call him a misogynist, and he wasn't even able to stand up for himself because he had no idea what was going on.

Jonghyun's puzzled look told Kibum he wasn't the only one clueless at the moment. "Kim Kibum, you did write these lyrics?" This should have been an affirmation, yet there was such an uncertainty in the professor's speech that it ended up sounding like a question.

"Of course I did!" The student winced warily at his own exclamation, but Jonghyun didn't seem to take it as a disrespectful act, so he kept on, "I don't understand what you're talking about." This was said in a small voice, as if to make up for his previous lack of regard when addressing his professor.

Jonghyun's face displayed understanding for the first time since they'd started their conversation, "Did you read what you'd written before handing in your assignment?" His inquiry gave Kibum the feeling that Jonghyun himself had done that before—writing blindly and not reading afterwards.

"Sure, I even proofread it twice," He answered promptly.

The professor frowned before finally realizing something, "You have your lyrics in hand right now, read them." Jonghyun gestured to the stapled papers that Kibum had been holding close to his chest since the end of class.

The student did as he was told, and Kibum could almost feel the light bulb lighting up inside his mind upon catching sight of _certain_ verses written by him himself— _if you play the piano, she will fall for you_ ; _look at the girls, they go shopping every day_ ; _girls are animals of emotions_.

"Oh! Now I get it!" Kibum stopped reading so he could look Jonghyun in the eye, "professor, these are sarcastic lyrics," he said it as if it was something pretty straightforward, when sarcasm was actually anything _but_ clear.

The crease on Jonghyun's forehead deepened at that, "I beg your pardon?"

"I decided to criticize the stupid stereotypes that women put up with nowadays," Kibum explained, his eyes shining upon finding out that his "F" had been a mere misunderstanding, so the lyrics which he had put so much effort into writing weren't necessarily _that_ bad.

Jonghyun still had his both eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but comprehension was starting to seep into his brown eyes. "Kim Kibum, I asked for _love_ lyrics," he stated this dryly, appearing to be untouched by the other's new-found optimism.

"And they are," Kibum insisted, "The boy wishes to understand girls because he is in love, so his friends help him by showing all misconceptions that girls must endure every single day."

"I understand that _now_ ," the professor's emphasis on the last word didn't sound pleasant, making a shiver course through Kibum's spine in response, "Though your lyrics may have potential, they still don't meet my requirements, thus your 'F' grade." Jonghyun concluded blatantly, as if this was as obvious as one-plus-one-equals-two.

Kibum ignored the hurt provoked by the other's words so he could resume his _somewhat_ courteous act—after all, now that he knew the heart of the matter, he would have to bargain with Jonghyun. "Professor, with all due respect, you can't chasten me for seeing love differently from other people." He justified in a soft tone, trying to show his reasoning, "Actually, nobody has the same perspective, so it's impossible to equalize the definition of love…"

"Kim Kibum, _with all due respect_ , I won't change your grade because the so-called love portrayed by your lyrics was choked by your criticism." The well-mannered words said by Jonghyun lost their politeness when accompanied by such harsh speech.

The professor paused his talking shortly, as if noticing he had spoken too severely. He took a deep breath before telling in a more composed voice, "Don't get me wrong, Kim Kibum, I'm not a sexist and I even agree with your thumbs-down, but you wouldn't get a much better grade even if I _did_ turn a blind eye to your straying from the topic." His tone was now apologetic, yet Kibum knew it wasn't fully authentic.

His desperation was clear, however there was a bit of defiance on the hard lines of Kibum's face—he couldn't believe that he would get an "F" just because of a misunderstanding. "Still, if you could at least read them again—" The blond interrupted himself upon catching something meaningful in between the professor's words, "Wait, do you mean my assignment doesn't deserve a grade better than ' _F_ '?" He mentioned the grade with contempt, practically grimacing at it, "You said it yourself that my lyrics have potential." Kibum tried hard not to sound like a whiny child.

"Potential isn't equal to grade 'A'." Jonghyun pushed up his glasses once more, but this time his features were more serene, as he truly seemed to be pondering to say something that would be useful for his student's improvement. "Your lyrics are too tricky and you had to explain them to me, so it means it's impossible to comprehend them by reading alone. The irony present in it may have given your song a Broadway-like feeling when accompanied with the whole scenario you have created, but it isn't quite well-done."

Jonghyun always exposed his opinion like that, in a crude word "vomit". Although Kibum knew the man didn't mean bad, he still felt as if he was being stabbed by each of the professor's observations. Kibum held his head high, nonetheless; he wouldn't be ashamed of believing his work deserved a better grade.

Obviously, Jonghyun hadn't finished pointing out Kibum's flaws, "You also made too much use of repetition; how many times did you write 'girls, girls, girls' in your paper?"

This questioning had been clearly made for the sake of rhetoric, yet Kibum couldn't help retorting, "'Girls, girls, girls', you say? What about 'neomu areumdaun-daun-daun-daun view'?" The blond counted on his fingers each one of the repeated daun's, as if mocking his professor for doing something he himself condemned instants ago.

Jonghyun didn't falter upon having his own lyrics used as a counterargument, replying almost automatically, "It's different, this…" The words died on his tongue as he took in his student's statement as a whole, "Hold on a sec, how do you know about these lyrics? The company hasn't even decided who's going to sing them." He furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing Kibum with a suspicious glare.

"Well, I…" Kibum was gaping at his professor, and slapping himself mentally for screwing up _again_ . No way in hell he would answer something like _I read these lyrics of yours last week, don't you remember? Oh, maybe it doesn't ring you a bell because I was cross-dressing at the moment_. No way in hell he would be given away by his big stupid mouth _once more_.

And then it came.

A piano melody.

Jinki waking up after having literally passed out on the couch, running to his room as soon as he got up—his quick steps resembled a child's; it was kind of cute seeing his hyung get so worked up over the long-awaited creativity outbreak. One minute after the door had been closed behind him, Kibum could hear from his own bedroom the faint sound of musical notes—they were enthusiastic and when put together resulted in a catching melody that soon had Kibum moving his feet to its beat absentmindedly.

"I am…" A friend? A roommate? No, he had to keep himself as far as he could from the truth, otherwise he would be easily found out. _Keep it as vague as possible_ , the little devil sat on Kibum's left shoulder advised, and the younger didn't even give the angel on his right shoulder the chance to object; "I'm close to Onew, and… He happened to say something about you guys working together in passing."

There was no trust whatsoever on Jonghyun's features; he had even lost his previous superior demeanor amid such intense obliviousness, "Is that so?" This was the first time that Kibum felt he and the professor were standing on equal ground, and he had to admit it was a _hella_ pleasant feeling.

Jonghyun now appeared to be searching for something in Kibum's eyes, making the student fear for another staring contest. However, the professor seemed to find whatever he had been looking for, since he displayed a convinced expression after averting his eyes, "Please, do tell Onew it's against SM's policy to disclose unreleased songs to outsiders."

Kibum suppressed sighing in relief at this simple warning; he couldn't afford rising any more suspicions. "Yes, sir," he answered politely, placing his assignment inside his bag as it looked like he wouldn't be getting his rightful grade— _yet_.

The student was stopped before he could head for the exit door, "Let me tell you a thing before you go, kid." _Kid? Your boyfriend is younger than me_ , this was said in the blond's mind _only_ —one slip of the tongue was _more than_ enough for the day.

"This is how the music industry works," Jonghyun stated it matter-of-factly, his big square glasses accentuating the seriousness behind his words, "Sometimes you'll feel _that_ sparkle inside you and your hand will itch begging you to write down _that_ idea, but you won't. And you know why?" Kibum bit his lower lip upon being told that, the somewhat regret on Jonghyun's features not helping easing his troublesome feeling at all. "Because the music industry is as cruel as it can get." The ache on his speech showed how the man himself had felt this cruelty on his own skin.

This excruciating confession sounded so raw to Kibum's ears that he got speechless—something so unlike him. He swallowed an uncomfortable lump down his throat, finally managing to speak before leaving the room, "Thank you for your wise words, Kim Professor Jonghyun."

There was no hint of sarcasm whatsoever on Kibum's tone—he was _truly_ grateful.

The door was closed.


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun makes Key his beard for a day, and Kibum almost loses his family jewels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long to update the story! Specially since last chapter so many people left kind comments. I'm very happy that you're all enjoying "Inspire Me" so much, and I hope I won't delay the next chapters again >.<

It was the second time in less than a month that Kibum had his slumber interrupted by his cell phone beeping on his bedside table; however, now it had been ten times worse since it was a _Sunday_ morning. Sunday—Kibum shall not be disturbed on Sundays. He knew he was partially the one at fault (why hadn't he put the device on silent last night?), yet, really, who texted people _so early_? (It was actually ten in the morning, but c'mon, it was a _Sunday_.)

Oh. Jonghyun did.

With this in mind, Kibum's right hand searched blindly for his cell phone, getting hold of it on his second try. He slid his finger across the screen to unlock it quickly, not caring to read the name displayed on it—it _had_ to be Jonghyun, otherwise the person would be a very unlucky one, for Kibum would curse _all_ their predecessors.

He opened his inbox, clicking right away on the new message: _I want to you in a bikini_ …

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

Swearing himself mentally for having sworn (and ending up swearing even more amid this process), Kibum dropped his cell phone on his bed, surprised by the first line of the text— whoa, what the hell?! It wasn't Jonghyun for sure; Jonghyun would never send Key something like _that_. Maybe Jung Joori had found out his new number? He still hadn't forgiven Jinki for giving her his previous one.

He took a deep breath as he tried to absorb what he had just read. "Let's not jump to conclusions, Kibummie," he told himself, searching for his cell phone lost in between his bed sheets.

After a couple of minutes, the blond found it. The screen showed him it had been indeed Jonghyun the one who sent such weird text—Kibum even rubbed his own eyes upon thinking it had been an illusion caused by his sleepiness, yet the words displayed on the screen didn't change at all. So it had been Jonghyun all right. Trying hard not to picture a number of creepy scenarios—maybe in the end all those rumors were true and Jonghyun did harass his disciples sexually?—, Kibum resumed reading the message.

 _I want you in a bikini in two hours. Text me your home address so I'll pick you up. Be quick_.

Jonghyun and his annoying habit of behaving as if he was in a TV drama—he would always keep everything secretive until the very last minute. Although Kibum started nurturing an intense antagonism for the man after their last talk, he couldn't afford to ignore his orders—after all, he was _Key_ right now. Therefore he'd have to do as he was told, and he knew the perfect person to call upon.

"Nicole, darling?"

* * *

Key had his body hidden by a black bathing suit, jeans shorts and a casual dress shirt which he had left unbuttoned. His feet wore a pair of comfortable flats, and his black wig had been tied in a loose ponytail. 

He felt uneasy for not knowing where he and Jonghyun were exactly going—had Key overdressed himself? Or maybe he was _under_ dressed? Would there be strangers? Thus he tried to conceal as much of his masculine traits as possible, and he thanked God for Nicole having such a prude style—he would be doomed if the girl owned only revealing bikinis; though his bathing suit was just for the show since Key had zero intention of swimming in drag. Even though he was aware of his frail build and feminine features, Kibum couldn't help but get insecure and all these worries could be seen through his makeup—it was way heavier than usual; black spots of mascara blocking his sight due to his long, fake eyelashes.

Key started tapping his right foot on the ground, refraining himself from sighing in impatience—Jonghyun had given him two hours to get ready; the student struggled but still made it in time, yet now he had been standing close to the main gate of Nicole's apartment complex for over twenty minutes and there had been no sign of the professor so far. Obviously, Kibum hadn't given Jonghyun his true address, so he had to borrow Nicole's for the time being.

Key had also made good use of the girl's help, which he was deeply grateful for—he needed to remind himself to repay her for everything some other time. Nicole had behaved perfectly; she had just stood there, watching leniently as Kibum made a mess out of her bedroom—she didn't judge him for having shaved his own legs, she didn't make fun of his wig, she didn't point out his drag queen-like makeup.

She only stepped in after catching sight of a dressed-up Key exiting her bathroom, "I'm afraid your package is making itself known, Bummie." The man had frowned at her euphemism, and Nicole blushed in response, "Your junk," she clarified, gesturing to her friend's crotch with a hesitant motion.

Seeing Kibum turn red was very amusing—he started stuttering, not able to phrase full sentences due to his mortification. Somehow amid his breakdown, Nicole took note of how girlish he did look; she wouldn't take him for a boy if she didn't know the whole truth. _Damn, now I understand why Professor Jonghyun fell for such cheap trick_.

Kibum would never disclose to anyone what happened in the next half hour—two words: duct tape. Nicole was pretty considerate, lending him her laptop and allowing him to lock himself up in her bathroom as he tried hard to follow the instructions of a YouTube video tutorial. He and Nicole decided taking a vow of silence regarding this _experience_.

The annoying honk of a horn nearby snapped Key out of his trance, and he regained his focus in time to see a Korean SUV close in to his spot on the sidewalk, hazard lights on. The driver's window lowered, showing a laid-back Kim Jonghyun, "Get in."

Key wanted to snicker at the man's bossy voice tone—he wouldn't lay down the professor act even on a Sunday, eh? "You're late, oppa," there was no genuine censure behind his complaint, and Jonghyun didn't seem to mind the lack of respect behind the honorific nor Key's insolence for bickering teasingly with him.

"You're not wearing a bikini," he retorted, eyeing the girl's silhouette through the windowpane as she headed for the passenger door. Key's figure didn't present many curves and that somewhat baggy shirt of hers didn't favor her frame—once more Jonghyun perceived the girl's self-consciousness regarding her body; she had clearly tried to keep as much of it out of sight.

"Do you know how hard dressing up is when you have no idea where you're going?" Key grumbled in response as he sat on the seat by the professor's side, buckling up his seat belt right away—Jonghyun suppressed a smile at Key's well-bred manners.

Something all of a sudden caught the student's attention, interrupting his whining. "Whoa, I thought you and that blazer of yours were one and the same," Key glanced at the other's T-shirt, eyes almost popping when noticing that the man was also wearing plain board shorts instead of his usual black slacks.

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at the youngster's exaggerated stupefaction and didn't even bother answering her remark; starting the car and finally taking his eyes off Key so he'd pay attention to the street before him. He began a mental countdown— _five, four, three_ …

Key looked through the window, her quizzical gaze being reflected on the glass as she took in the streets of Seoul passing fast by her. Jonghyun's lips curled in an amused smile—… _two, one_.

 _Now_.

"Where are we going, after all?" Key asked at last, frowning as he made out some of the street plaques, trying in vain to guess their destination.

"We're going to a company pool party," Jonghyun replied calmly, apparently oblivious to the other's anxiety.

"Wait, company as in the company you work for?" The professor nodded mutely, his silence contrasting with Key's shock, "You work for SM, don't you?" The student didn't seem to be sure of anything as a consequence of his current wariness— _go to a SM party? You're joking, aren't you?_

Jonghyun had to chuckle at her disbelief, "Yes, I do and you are very well aware of that." 

Yep, that was it: Key was going to a SM _pool_ party.

His hands went straight to both sides of the passenger seat as if he had to restrain himself from bouncing like a five-year-old due to extreme excitement. "No way, no way, no way, oppa!" This was the only cohesive sentence he was able to phrase; his mind too busy picturing how the event would be.

"I'm sorry for throwing cold water on you, but if you're expecting to meet any SM idols, I'm afraid there will be none." Jonghyun's voice was sober as he stared at the street ahead of him, yet Key could see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Maybe Kibum was a sucker for SM idols, maybe his enthusiasm died down _a bit_ upon this information, however he was still very pleased for having the opportunity of attending a SM pool party—it would be wonderful to meet all songwriters and lyricists who were responsible for K-pop's most successful songs. Hang on, SM songwriters? Then it meant Jinki ( _Onew_ , he corrected himself mentally) would probably be there and he hadn't told Kibum anything about it! Actually he couldn't blame his roommate for doing that—Kibum did own a history of overreacting whenever SM was mentioned, and Jinki learned after a few months living together with the blond that it'd be better for all of them if he just didn't speak about the company often.

"Whatever, oppa, I don't mind." Key expressed mild disdain, getting excited one more, "C'mon, we're talking about _SM_ , all employees are equally fantastic!" Realizing at last that acting like a fangirl close to the professor would possibly make him displeased, the student opened his mouth to make up for his overjoyed behavior.

"I'm happy you feel like that," Jonghyun said it in a warm voice, not giving Key room to speak. This statement was followed by such an honest, delighted smile that it left Key speechless for the rest of the drive.

* * *

The place was located in the Gangnam district—this fact alone was jaw-dropping enough to Key. He struggled to school his features as Jonghyun parked in the beginning of the driveway of a beautiful mansion (no, it wasn't _just_ a big house, it was a mansion indeed), and the professor left his car key with one of the workers responsible for valet parking.

The construction had a modern architecture and could easily be a set for a TV drama: white walls, stone pillars and even a water fountain close to a monumental wooden double door. Jonghyun and Key were guided by a well-dressed, professional-like woman through a lengthy hallway, walking by innumerous doors until they reached what seemed to be some sort of courtyard—though it was extensive in such way that Key'd be belittling the place if he called it a mere courtyard.

Wall-like structures made of some soft white fabric had been raised up by metal frames, sectioning the available space in different zones. On some of them, four-seat tables had been laid out; on others, longer tables could be seen, presenting food from several cuisines—so buffet it was, _wonderful_. Key wouldn't say it out loud, however he was practically starving since it was already past noon and he hadn't even had breakfast yet.

The pool, which should be the party's main attraction, was actually on one of the corners of the place, almost hidden by a large bush adorned with colorful flowers. There was a small stage close to it, a couple of musical instruments laid on it as if waiting for someone to go over and play them—Key didn't find this arrangement particularly smart; what if one of the speakers was damaged by water splashed from the nearby pool?

After scanning the whole place with his eagle eyes, Key finally took note of the guests' clothes and found out, to his relief, that he had dressed himself up properly for the occasion. Jonghyun misunderstood his sigh, "Tired already? The party hasn't even started."

"For a professor you are pretty fiery," Key's sharp tongue bickered back, sarcastic amazement clear in each word of his, though he wasn't paying too much attention to his professor since Key was busy practically _salivating_ at the view of the buffet alone.

Jonghyun snorted at her observation, "You do know professors have a life out of the college, right?" This question had been obviously made out of irony, and Key wanted to sneer at that—Jonghyun surely had a life out of college, together with his _boyfriend_.

Oblivious to what was going on inside the youngster's head, the man let go of his wisecrack so his left hand would find Key's right elbow in order to lead her to the closest buffet. "Let's get you something to eat," he justified himself before the girl could question his actions, "If you had your tongue hanging out of your mouth you'd look just like a hungry dog right now. You must be famished, you didn't have breakfast today?" His guessing made the last sentence sound like a question.

"Well, I didn't because someone woke me up," Key retorted, following the man without protesting. He relished the feeling of Jonghyun's warm hand on his arm, a suave blush coloring timidly his cheeks due to this unexpected display of kindness—being a girl, being the one guided, being at the receiving end for once; Kibum was enjoying it way more than he should. So Key accepted promptly the porcelain plate offered by the professor, starting to help himself as civilized as possible—he didn't want people to take him for those party crashers who came in just for the food.

"Are you serious you were still asleep? It was already ten in the morning when I texted you." Jonghyun frowned at the dish before his eyes, truly surprised by this realization. "Funny, I'd never think you were the type to sleep in." It seemed that once again his hobby of guessing people's personalities had proved itself flawed. Despite Jonghyun knowing looks could be deceiving, Key's hardworking and eager character made him presume the girl liked to enjoy her available time to its fullest—and sleeping basically consisted in spending a great deal of time doing _nothing_ ; how annoying was it?!

Key shrugged to fake unconcern, "It's not my fault if I've been feeling so tired lately." Kibum actually disliked sleeping (it was such a waste of time!), but no matter how much he did it, he was aware that his body would simply _shut down_ if he didn't rest regularly. Key soon disregarded these thoughts since he couldn't give Jonghyun much breach on this particular subject—theoretically, how could Key get that tired if _she_ didn't study? "Plus, it's not cool to compare a girl to a dog, you know?" He pouted childishly as he furtively changed the course of their talk, eyeing a medium-size basket filled with French fries. Would it be impolite to take all of them at once?

Jonghyun was so taken aback by the girl's remark that he set down his spoon, forgetting completely about the sauce he had shown great interest in seconds ago. "Don't you dare to badmouth dogs in my presence," he stated it in a sober voice.

At first, Key had assumed Jonghyun was joking, but his serious face told the student his professor had meant every word; the youngster had to hold back a snicker upon facing the professor's sudden graveness. He pursed his lips before showing his tongue to Jonghyun like a brat would do; an attempt of erasing the man's previous stern demeanor, "I'd never do that, after all, I myself own dogs." Key let go of his kid-like behavior in order to appreciate all memories currently flooding his mind: two fluffy poodles running happily around the backyard of his house back in Daegu.

 _Daegu_ … He had been so busy with dance practice, university, vocal training and Jonghyun that he hadn't had the time to call his parents and ask about Comme des and Garçons. They were probably worried about him (by _they,_ Kibum actually meant both his parents and _dogs_ ), and although his grandmother had been the one to mainly raise him, it would be too inconsiderate of Kibum not to contact them often (especially because his parents were bankrolling _all_ his expenses).

Key blinked a few times as he regained focus, noticing that he had been staring blankly at the French fries for over a full minute—wow, that must not have looked creepy _at all_. "I reckon you have a pet too, right?" He picked up their talk, hoping that his momentary trance hadn't been perceived by Jonghyun.

He could swear he saw the man's eyes shine dreamily at the mention of dogs, "Her name's Roo." Jonghyun resumed helping himself, completely oblivious to Key's sudden lapse; "What about yours?" There was a carefree curiosity behind his words, and Key liked that: he had never seen the man act so naturally before—back in the university Jonghyun might be a comfortable professor to be around with; but he was a _professor_ nonetheless. Concealed by those sober blazers and slacks was _this_ Jonghyun; the one who never knew when to stop talking, the one who seemed to nurture a deep love for puppies. The one who didn't have to carry such an important title, thus he was free to say and act as he wished to.

Key got a handful of French fries (even though he wanted a way bigger portion) and moved on to the next dish—fried fish, _yum_ , if he closed his eyes Key could pretend he was having fish and chips just like the British did. Only then he answered breezily, "Unfortunately I had to leave mine in Daegu, at my parents' house. The apartment I moved in here in Seoul doesn't allow pets," the melancholy on his voice was evident, but Key's expression soon became apprehensive—darn, he had disclosed too much information; he couldn't let himself be carried away by Jonghyun's currently casual demeanor. (As much of a good turnover it was though.)

Jonghyun's gaze on him turned into a confused one, making Key wonder how much his face had given away. However he knew he couldn't simply stay there in silence, for it would only make his fearful expression look fishier, "I have two poodles, their names are Comme des and Garçons." Key's features displayed now a fake, collected look as he got himself a fork and a knife at the end of the table.

Key was half relieved and half annoyed when Jonghyun let out a loud laugh, eyes closed shut and head thrown backwards like he had just heard the best joke _ever_ . He then caught sight of some people around them eyeing the man as if he was a freak, and Key lowered his head as he blushed furiously. "Jonghyun, you…" _Honorifics, Kibum, you can't forget to use honorifics_ , "Oppa, stop it, please." He added a please just so he wouldn't sound too commanding, however Jonghyun had surely heard the note of indignation on the youngster's tone.

"I'm sorry, it's just that…" Jonghyun set down his plate so he could pretend to rub tears of laughter from his eyes. "These are such _fancy_ names for dogs."

The student glared angrily at him, looking unfazed by the elder's attempt at humor. "I am _so_ sorry," Key's sarcasm was as clear as day, "But they're French, so it made sense at the time," Key began to explain, but he stopped himself—this was useless; knowing Jonghyun he bet the man didn't even know what _Comme des Garçons_ meant. After deeming this a lost cause, Key turned around, promptly leaving the man behind and heading for the closest vacant table.

Although he acknowledged this a childish action, Key boldly put her feet on the chair across her seat when Jonghyun got closer; plate filled with food in one hand, fork and knife in the other. "You do realize I'm your professor?" His voice was drowned by disbelief as he raised one eyebrow at the girl's disrespectful behavior, making his statement lose all its authority.

"If you make up for laughing at my dogs, I'll consider letting you enjoy my pleasant presence." Key's words were filled with egocentrism, and he did not spare even a single glance to the man standing by his side as he said them.

The girl's navel-gazing didn't seem to affect the older man, "That's easy," he flashed a victorious grin to a confused Key before setting his plate on the table and going away without leaving any room for the girl to complain.

Jonghyun came back holding the whole basket of French fries that Key had been not so secretly flirting with some time ago. "Here you are," the professor smirked as he saw Key fight back an amused smile, her eyes wide open in surprise as they gazed at the food. _She is so silly…_

Sometimes Key did seem to be a hard person to figure out; nonetheless sometimes it was just too easy to see through her. He condoned her somewhat disrespectful treatment towards him because… _Because she is quite something_ , the professor praised her mentally—he wouldn't risk saying it aloud and inflating her _huge_ ego even more. Though Jonghyun himself didn't know for sure what he meant by _something_ , he was certain of this: it was a great quality _unique_ to Key.

Key let his feet fall from the chair, allowing Jonghyun to sit down at last. He did not acknowledge the man's victorious smile, turning his full attention to his meal instead—his stomach grumbled and his mouth watered in anticipation. Key had just grabbed his fork when he saw a tanned hand come into his sight, pushing solicitously the French fries basket across the table so it'd be placed closer to Key's plate.

He tried hard not to express any emotion, but in the end Key gave in, lowering his eyes as he felt familiar warmth spreading around his cheeks. Kibum wished he hadn't seen Jonghyun's look filled with pride upon taking in the youngster's faintly flustered features.

Shame aside, Key was too (starving and) engrossed in eating to care to keep a conversation with the professor so they both stuck to satiating themselves, and silence fell in as consequence. It was a welcoming silence though; nothing like the ones that used to take over the office, when the room was filled only by the sound of Key's broom against the flooring and Jonghyun's pen tapping at his desk. Back then it had been Key's first weeks working for Jonghyun—how long had he been doing it so far? Almost two months— _only?!_ , Kibum's mind gaped at this realization.

They were both equally pleased with their relationship's quick development, yet none of them was bold enough to point it out. Kibum wouldn't delude himself by claiming he knew every aspect of Jonghyun's (for instance, he was aware that Minho knew the man much better than him), despite that, he could confidently reel off a number of quirks owned by the professor.

And that's why Key wasn't so surprised when Jonghyun broke their silence by saying out of the blue, "I understand you, actually." Kibum had first gotten a fright when the man first blurted out purposeless questions and sentences though, one afternoon in the office. It took him some time to realize that Jonghyun was prone to saying his thoughts out loud at the most random moments, and he always ended up asking Key's opinions on topics that ranged from social matters to political discussions.

Key might be used to this habit of Jonghyun's, however the man's words were still too out of context for him, so confusion took over the student's face as he ceased his eating to pay close attention to his professor. "You couldn't simply grab the whole basket of French fries because then you'd face society's disapproval," Jonghyun started to clarify his logic, yet it seemed to make Key only _more_ clueless, "Girls can't eat too much because they are frowned upon when overweight. Therefore all of them must own a—what's the expression?—bikini body." Jonghyun let go of his fork in order to draw quotes on the air; acid criticism making him wrinkle his face. "However, when it comes to boys and men in general…"

Key finally got his professor's train of thought—Jonghyun was too _accidental_ and inconstant for the youngster's mind to keep up with. "…Boys are allowed to eat as much as they want to, as long as they don't get fat. But that's not likely to happen when taking into account all the strict PE classes everybody has in school." Key finished thoughtfully, food long forgotten although he was still pretty hungry. He always played along with Jonghyun's reflections—partly because he found them quite interesting, partly because Key enjoyed astonishing the professor by stating his own opinions.

"Of course there are the unlucky ones who won't lose weight no matter how hard they exercise," there was a faint note of distaste on the professor's voice as he lowered his somewhat scolding gaze to his own plate. Even though they were discussing such grave matter, Key couldn't help giving a small smile—Jonghyun always considered every possibility, of every point of view. Nothing ever escaped from his watchful eyes.

"Thus bullying; it's survival of the fittest back in schools—the ones who have got the upper hand take advantage of the unlucky ones." Key stated it drily, resuming his eating. He still felt a bit puzzled though; Jonghyun had reprimanded him ( _Kibum_ ) for crucifying girls' stereotypes, yet the man himself was much of a nitpicker. Key shrugged off the letdown that insisted on getting on his nerves every time he remembered about his "F" grade; _Oh, yeah, I have to study, otherwise I'll flunk._ Getting such a bad grade was disgraceful enough; Kibum would die of shame if he flunked a _mere_ elective.

Jonghyun frowned at Key's words, "How are Daegu schools like?" Now his tone didn't carry any of that carefree curiosity that had pleased Key so much; Jonghyun sounded so business-like that the student thought for a moment that he was back to their first encounter, when the professor had inquired him incessantly as if in a job interview.

"Awful, you are doomed if you don't fit in," Key's lips crisped in a wince, dislike present in every line of his face as he set down his fork—no way could he eat when talking about such serious matter. He wondered how the hell Jonghyun and he had approached the subject of school bullying when their starting point had been _dogs_.

"And did you?" Jonghyun's inquiry received back a void look from Key, and the man misinterpreted it as a sign to explain himself further, "Fit in, I mean."

Narrowed eyes, pursed lips, a clear grimace wrinkling his features—Key didn't want to answer this innocent question. No matter how strongly he fought back, those deprecating looks, hushed offenses and malicious giggles never failed in getting under his skin—Kibum could do without taking a trip down memory lane, thank you very much.

Every time his school days' reminiscences came to light in his mind, it was as if each ounce of confidence that Kibum had earned so far in college faded away, leaving him vulnerable just like his teenage-self had been a couple of years ago. He had never been truly beat up or anything alike ( _Thank God_ ), but he had to confess that _maybe_ physical violence would have been a tad better than the whole psychological bashing he had been forced to endure.

Key had his eyebrows furrowed as he _calculated_ his answer—it couldn't be too short since short replies usually sparked a string of questions from Jonghyun's part; should Key stick to his narcissism and say something like _how could I fit in when I'm one of a kind_? He was thankfully saved by the bell—figuratively speaking, of course. A waitress showed up out of thin air, startling both Key and Jonghyun.

"Do you wish to drink something?" She asked solicitously, displaying a wide smile as the pen in her right hand hovered expectantly over the notepad she was holding. Jonghyun didn't seem bothered by the interruption, reciting right away the name of a famous brand of soju, whereas Key had both hands clutching his chest as he tried to recover from his almost-but-not-quite heart attack.

"Melon juice, please," he ordered in a small voice—Key didn't have the guts to drink alcohol when in company with Jonghyun. When the waitress was gone, Key realized something, "You are driving, you can't drink soju." He censured his professor with a disapproval look on his eyes, yet Jonghyun could almost sense a mother-like worry behind this complaint.

"This will be our little secret, ok?" He brought his forefinger to his lips jokingly, his face getting even more amused upon taking note of Key's growing reprehension.

Key snorted in response, rolling his eyes—he was definitely taking a cab back home. This action made him suddenly aware of his surroundings, and he decided to let go of their meaningless argument so he could observe more thoroughly the place and people, resuming his eating once more. More guests had arrived, so there were more of them having fun inside the pool and chatting happily close to the many buffet tables. There were more waiters and waitresses too; it seemed that their number had grown proportionally to the guests'.

Jonghyun's lips split into a delighted smile upon catching Key's fascinated gaze roaming all over the place as she tried to take in everything all at once, as if she hadn't actually been there for over an hour already—so she was really enjoying the party, _phew_ ; Jonghyun didn't wish to get to know a bored Key _for real_.

He finished eating his food and started "stealing" some of Key's French fries, however the professor stopped doing so after noticing it had no effect whatsoever on the girl. Only then Jonghyun saw how her feline eyes were too focused on something in particular, yet he didn't try getting her attention back—he'd wait for her to start making questions.

Once again, it didn't take long for Key to express his endless curiosity, "Who's the uptight guy in suit?" Said stranger had caught Key's eye after his second look around; at first the student had mistaken him for a waiter due to his formal attire, however a closer look told him it was an Armani suit—something too expensive for a mere server to wear. The man was tall and gave off a leadership feeling even right now, when he was just standing still and talking to a couple of men around him. His hard features displayed deep interest and soberness in what he was currently discussing with the other guests, and this only proved the obvious: he was a businessman.

"He isn't Lee Soo Man, in case you're wondering," Jonghyun informed, following Key's gaze. "He's one of his closest men though, sort of a jack of all trades. His job is basically to keep a close eye to everything going on inside SM. Other than Lee Soo Man himself, he's the only one who's able to interfere with trainees, songs, lyricists, songwriters…" He pursed his lips as he tried to remember more information on the man, "He also has the power to suggest concepts, lyrics and even artworks."

Key whistled at that (darn, that man was high-level for sure), and Jonghyun chuckled at the student's reaction. Bit by bit, the engines inside Key's brain started working, and the youngster could almost feel a _brand new idea_ popping up… But then his eyes caught _something_.

A pair of tanned legs that went on for miles.

Wavy, blonde hair.

"You liar!" Key exclaimed, slapping Jonghyun's left arm from across the table, eyes wide open and jaw dropped in amazement as his shocked stare addressed now a spot over the elder's head; the previous businessman now completely forgotten.

"Hey, what was that for?" The professor rubbed the area hit by Key, trying to ignore the pain blossoming under his touch—wow, she was a pretty strong girl. When he got no reply from her, Jonghyun sighed as he looked over his shoulder to find out what had Key so stunned. Then _he_ came into his sight.

Big doe eyes.

Astounding six-pack abs partially shown by an unbuttoned shirt.

Key's high-pitched voice snapped Jonghyun's out of his brief trance, "…You said that, but Jessica Jung has just shown up; c'mon, it's _Jessica Jung_! She is, like, SM's greatest female idol!"

 _Key doesn't know about you and Minho, Jonghyun, don't you dare to give yourself away_ ; he scolded himself. Following his own advice, he promptly schooled his features as he turned back to Key. "Some celebrities attend company parties once in a while, how could I predict Choi Minho and Jessica Jung would come today?" Jonghyun feigned feeling offended by Key's last inquiries— _yes, be the playful guy and she won't notice it_.

"Am I allowed to ask for autographs?" Key's eyes were gleaming in idolization, and if Jonghyun didn't know the student any better, he'd think that she was giving him puppy eyes. Still, the girl's sudden cheerfulness did nothing to stop a dark cloud from glooming Jonghyun's mood.

"Do as you please, I don't mind," the professor shrugged and truth be told, he couldn't care _less_ about Key's current "worries" because Minho had come to the pool party. What the fuck, wasn't he supposed to tell Jonghyun this kind of stuff? And on top of that, he had come with _Jessica_. Minho knew he held a (plausible) grudge against her; was he deliberately teasing Jonghyun? "But, please, do let them do whatever they want before bothering them," he advised absentmindedly as he tried not to let frustration slip into his voice, casting his eyes down to the empty plate before him.

"Can I ask now? They're walking towards us anyway." Key started tapping his fingers against the table excitedly, a dumb smile on his lips. He would have never predicted that he would run into Jessica Jung of all people in this party—Key loved all of her albums (obviously, he knew all lyrics and choreographies by heart) and only God knew how many times he had coaxed Taemin into dancing her songs with him.

"Goddammit, Key, if I told you to do whatever you want then stop bugging me!" Jonghyun bolted bluntly, clenching his teeth in impatience. He felt a bit of regret for venting out his exasperation at Key after seeing her flinch on her seat in reaction to his words, but despite that, there was a somewhat knowing look on her eyes that scared Jonghyun momentarily—it gave him the feeling that she was somehow aware of the turmoil currently disturbing his mind. However, before Jonghyun could say anything, a feminine voice soared behind him.

"Hello, professor. Am I supposed to call you oppa now?"

Jonghyun got up from his seat right away, bowing at the woman before him, "Hello, Jessica, long time no see." He greeted back with a neutral expression on his face, and he didn't bother answering her previous question. Then Jonghyun smiled courteously, eyeing both idols with a soft look; one so unlike his state of mind at the moment. Behind him, Jonghyun heard the sound of wood against the ground as Key pushed her chair in order to bow politely at the unexpected guests.

Minho, who had been silent during these exchanges, finally spoke up, "Good afternoon, you are…?" His big eyes were aimed at Key, who smiled timidly before telling the rapper her name ( _her nickname_ , Jonghyun amended mentally). "Nice to meet you," the tall man nodded welcomingly in response, yet Jessica seemed to be more interested in Key than him.

"You're his new disciple, right? Are you enjoying it? Professor Jonghyun is very strict, isn't he?" She asked these questions in record time, taking a deep breath afterwards. Key rose his eyebrows at that, forehead wrinkling in surprise at her lung capacity. He had barely parted his lips to answer Jessica when Minho interrupted them.

"Let's leave them to their girly things, Jonghyun," he suggested, gesturing with his head for the man to go with him somewhere else. The professor shrugged at that, yet Key noticed how stiff his shoulders were—Jonghyun wasn't feeling comfortable with this whole situation, he was certain of that.

"Girls, have fun," the elder dismissed them with a glance over his shoulder as he walked away with Minho.

"We'll surely do, won't we, Key?" Jessica draped one of her long arms over the boy's slim shoulders, showing a bright, content smile that had the student enchanted straightaway. Key was about to reply to her remark when a waitress showed up, apologizing for interrupting their conversation as she set down a glass of melon juice and a bottle of soju on the table.

Raising his eyes from the alcoholic drink, Key couldn't help feeling strangely _discarded_ as he saw Jonghyun's retreating back.

* * *

"'Let's leave them to their girly things,'" Jessica failed disgracefully at copying Minho's deep voice. "What did he mean by that?" There was no authentic anger behind her complaint though, as she turned to Key in expectation.

Key, oblivious to the pair of anticipant eyes trained on his face, was currently wearing a thoughtful expression upon facing a mental dilemma—now that excitement wasn't blurring his logic anymore, Kibum was having a hard time trying to sort out everything that had just happened. At first, he had been thrilled with Jessica's appearance, however amid his haze-like enthusiasm Key's attentive eyes caught a glimpse of _something_ —Jonghyun _glared_ at Jessica when she showed up. Although it had been too fast, Kibum was sure of that; it was as if his professor wished to drill holes into her frame with his gaze alone.

They both certainly knew each other, and this wasn't a quite surprising fact when taking into account they worked for the same company. Yet, people didn't _simply_ glare angrily at someone; there was always a reason behind it. Maybe the most obvious would be that Jessica was accompanying Minho (Jonghyun's boyfriend), but Kibum highly doubted his professor would get mad due to such a _petty_ motive.

A shudder coursed through Key's spine, making him finally come back to Earth. He blushed upon noticing Jessica's intent gaze aimed at him. "Minho probably thinks we'll talk about bras, hairstyles and tampons," Key joked to light up the mood a bit, rolling his eyes with the purpose of hiding his nervousness. Jessica might be his favorite artist of all time, yet he didn't know how to deal with all these mixed emotions unsettling him from inside out.

A sly smirk curled Jessica's perfect, rosy lips after hearing Key's wisecrack, "How about you and I talk about something way better than those?" She pushed a chair nearby so she could sit down, and Key followed her lead—he had a feeling this was going to be a _long_ talk.

"Which would be…?" He asked, though he wasn't paying close attention to Jessica's attempt of starting a conversation; Key's eyes still trained on the door which Jonghyun had gone through with Minho instants ago. Why had they gone back to the mansion?...

"Men." Jessica's single word drew Key's full focus to her almost instantly, and the artist giggled shortly at that, her wavy, golden hair swaying in rhythm with her soothing laughter.

"Oh, sure!" Key wanted to facepalm himself so hard right now—of course (straight) girls enjoyed talking about men, how could he forget that? He tried acting naturally, even though he didn't have any clue how to approach such foreign subject. "So, are you dating Choi Minho?" The words spilled from his lips before Key could have fully comprehended them. He took a long sip of his melon juice, praying silently for his own surprise having gone unnoticed by Jessica.

The blonde girl looked untouched by Key's dreadfulness, displaying a warm yet knowing smile at his question, "I am not his girlfriend, and you know why." Her bell-like chuckle resonated once more when getting an eye-popping Key in response to her words. Jessica glanced around with a worried expression before bringing her face close to Key's, "Minho is gay," this was said in a barely audible whisper. Jessica leaned back on the chair, sitting properly as she added, "And so is Professor Jonghyun, but you are already aware of that."

Key felt a red siren soar inside his head, a male voiceover shouting "danger, danger!" desperately as his mind processed bit by bit of the information presented to him by Jessica. _Does she know?_... Had Jonghyun told her? What, hell no—his glare hinted he actually despised her, he wouldn't disclose such secret to _her_. But Jessica seemed to be close friends with Minho, so maybe was he the one who told her?

Pulling himself together and feigning ignorance, Key managed to let out a yelp-like tone, "What are you talking about?" He remembered how he had first been surprised by this discovery, and tried to convey his entire shock through his voice in order to make a convincing act.

This was all in vain though, for Jessica's sly smirk was back on her lips, however now it didn't have any trace of her previous amused behavior. "Don't play dumb, you can trust in me," her words were a tad brash, yet they sounded good-hearted when spoken with Jessica's soft voice. "Plus, the look on your eyes when you saw Minho and I walking in said everything," her observation had Key biting his lower lip worriedly—he knew what Jessica was referring to, obviously.

When he caught sight of Minho by her side, the first thing that had come to his mind was _Jonghyun and Minho can't be seen together, what if people find out about their relationship?_ , and Key's eyes had probably given away some of his apprehension. This was actually pretty ironic since Jonghyun seemed to have thrown caution to the wind and left with Minho without a worry in his mind. Key refrained himself from tsking, _really, what a reckless professor_ …

Somewhere amid his thoughts, Key reminded himself that Jessica was still speaking, thus he should pay attention. "…I'm very surprised that professor cared introducing his boyfriend to a disciple. He would never do such thing back when he was teaching me."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on a sec— _when he was teaching_ **_me_**? Jessica had classes with Jonghyun? Actually, it did make sense: Key remembered reading on one of these famous gossip magazines (they were Kibum's guilty pleasure) that Jessica had started studying at the same university as him a couple of years ago, however she quit college in order to work on her debut. Nonetheless, something on her voice hinted she hadn't meant _student_ in its most common meaning, so Key decided to take a chance, "Y-you were his disciple?"

Jessica nodded, finding the other's astonishment funny. "Yes, I was his first one and only. Not so _only_ anymore, eh?" He wasn't quite listening to her though—Key was too shocked at the realization that all those silly rumors that Nicole enjoyed telling him so much were actually _true_. Okay, they didn't fully meet reality, but they did have something real in between their lines—one of Jonghyun's late disciples had indeed become a famous celebrity. Kibum had to confess that now he was a bit fearful of Jonghyun having sex slaves or doing human trafficking— _nah, just kidding_.

 _Kibum, Jessica is still talking, listen to her for Christ's sake!_ ; the student ranted at himself inwardly. Really, what was wrong with him today? He had the opportunity of talking to _the_ Jessica Jung, yet his mind insisted on straying to Jonghyun.

"Good luck with professor, Key, and I'm sorry for having made things harder for you," Jessica's voice sounded apologetic as if she was offering Key her condolences, and he had to hold back a clueless look at her sudden soberness.

Key didn't grasp what Jessica had been talking about, and he couldn't ask for any further explanation because then she'd know he wasn't giving her any attention. Kibum might be a little dazed today, but he knew very well it was never a good idea to ask a celebrity to repeat themself.

Therefore, Key simply nodded with a small smile on his lips, and this response seemed to satisfy Jessica, "Back to my previous questions… What do you think of professor's tutoring sessions? Are you managing to do all that _endless_ homework?" Jessica grimaced at her own memories.

"Endless homework? I wish," Key sighed, and Jessica's eyebrows wrinkled at such obvious display of sadness; something akin to confusion and solace on her face. "He seldom teaches me properly, you know?" Key clarified his blues, his right hand drawing invisible patterns on the pristine white tablecloth.

"Really? Professor used to come to the university every morning so he could teach me about melody, and rhymes, and lyrics… It was fantastic." Jessica's eyes were unfocused; she was clearly diving into cozy reminiscences.

Key himself could easily picture them—a younger Jessica sat across Jonghyun as he came up with lyrics right in front of her, using them to teach her techniques known by him only. The early morning sun seeping into the office through the windows… Only once Jonghyun went through the trouble of waking up "early" (the quotes were needed because Kibum refused to call ten in the morning _early_ ) to teach Key lyric-writing—and he had to admit it was worth _every second_.

However he wanted more, so much more—Kibum didn't want to have to wait for over a month to get a proper lesson from Jonghyun. He wanted this "endless homework" that Jessica complained so much about, he wanted Jonghyun to wake up early for him—for _Key_. He wasn't asking for too much, was he?

"Again, I'm truly sorry for making things harder for you," Jessica said it yet again with deep regret, and only this time Key's mind kept up with what these words implied.

 _I gave everything on a silver platter to the one before you, and I regret doing so. I don't make the same mistake twice_.

Jessica had disappointed Jonghyun.

She was the reason why Key had been so tired lately. She was the reason why Key now had calloused hands. She was the reason why Key had to tidy Jonghyun's office every single day in order to _learn_ something. All of that happened to Kibum just because Jessica _screwed up_ somewhere during her time with Jonghyun, and now Key had to pay the price.

What a great way of turning one of your most idolized artists into the bane of your college life— _fantastic_ , indeed.

Key clenched his jaw minimally, afraid of Jessica catching the animosity present in his features. His worry was unnecessary since she had already moved on to another topic, "Anyway, this is all water under the bridge." She said it while shaking her hand in a disdainful gesture; her metal bracelets clanking one against the other. "Let's share our stories about Professor Jonghyun," Jessica rubbed her hands together as if she was plotting a top-secret plan, "Does he still blurt out random remarks when he's in his office?"

"Hell yeah," Key's attempt at acting carefree sounded fake even to his own ears. Regardless of how mad he felt at the woman before him, he couldn't let it show or he'd be doomed. Actually, why waste time nurturing a useless indignation towards Jessica when he could simply enjoy her company? C'mon, this was _Jessica Jung_ talking to him. "Jonghyun was having one of these _moments_ just before you guys showed up," Key said, his playful demeanor looking more natural now.

Jessica laughed openly at that, putting a hand in front of her mouth when she noticed she had been too loud. "You can thank me for saving your skin. It's quite annoying when he keeps on asking your opinion and you have no idea what he's really talking about, right?"

Key frowned at that—he actually _enjoyed_ stating his opinions… And it was kind of _cute_ how fired up Jonghyun got when the student did so—the man's eyes got larger than normal, and sometimes his jaw dropped and his mouth turned into a perfect "o" when Key introduced a new perspective of a matter to him. Not knowing what answer would please Jessica, Key stuck to a simple affirmation, "…Yeah."

"Has any plagiary episode happened so far this year?" Jessica asked, and Key's stance became automatically stiff. She didn't actually wait for his answer, "Once, two students handed in identical assignments, when in reality it should have been done individually. Do you know what Jonghyun did? He graded only one of them, and left a note on the other one: 'If you care to know my observations and grade on your assignment, check them on your friend's paper.'" A mischievous giggle fell from her lips, making her look like a kid who had just seen their older sibling be yelled at by mom and dad.

"Oppa sure gets pissed off at plagiary," Key pursed his lips, unaffected by Jessica's amusement as a mildly angry feeling poked his gut for the umpteenth time today.

Something strangely akin to fear flashed on her eyes when taking in Key's words. Jessica lowered her voice, sounding serious out of the blue, "Be careful not to call him oppa when he's nearby; otherwise he'll skin you" She advised, graveness taking over her features and wiping away completely her previous joyfulness.

"Oh, sorry," Key blushed at his mistake, yet he was truly confused now. He called Jonghyun oppa all the time and the man had never expressed any disapproval at that; only a hint of playfulness as if Key had just told him a joke.

"You know, Key, I really like you." Jessica stretched one of her arms so her hand could reach one of Key's, which were set down on the table. _This is Jessica Jung; Jessica Jung is holding my hand_. She smiled happily as she glanced at the student, renewed blissfulness being displayed on her face. "Do you like to dance? Because I'm tired of talking," expectation shone on Jessica's eyes.

Key's excitement suddenly matched Jessica's, "I do; I love your choreographies. Actually, I know all of them by heart." He choked on his own words due to his haste, but the woman didn't mind that, getting up from her chair still hand in hand with Key.

"Oh, so you're a fan of mine?" She asked with faint surprise as she led him through the maze of chairs and tables. 

"Yeah, I've been keeping up with your work since your debut, I think you're doing a great job. Fighting!"

Jessica laughed as Key shook his fist enthusiastically, "You're so cute! How about you talk more about _me_ as we get to the dance floor?" She suggested jokingly, but Key suspected there was a hint of authentic egocentricity on her words.

However, Key cared little about celebrities having huge egos (this was hardly breaking news), so he clung to the last part of her sentence, "What dance floor?" Key had scanned the whole place twice and he hadn't seen any space available for dancing.

"Oh, sweetie, you haven't seen anything of this place yet."

* * *

It turned out the pool party wasn't limited by the space outdoors—the mansion, too, had plenty of rooms offering many different ways of entertainment. Key didn't really have the chance to check each one of them closely since Jessica was dragging him through the same hallway which he had walked with Jonghyun some hours ago; however, he still caught a glimpse of a spacious room with an equally wide balcony. All the people in there had either cigarettes or cigars in their hands, and fans worked hard to ventilate the smoke-impregnated air—the student grimaced at this; he hated smoking _and_ smokers. He thought these people had a dead wish, otherwise why would they suck cancer sticks on their own volition?

They reached at last their destination—a room with no windows, black painted walls and colorful lights. Jessica was still holding Key's hand as she led him through the packed dance floor, and she started to dance when she found a free spot big enough for both of them. There were LCD televisions displaying several SM idols' music videos, and Key realized that he shouldn't actually be surprised for finding out they were playing only songs produced by the company—SM had always had a tendency to advertising itself, after all.

At first, Key had been dancing absentmindedly (simple dance moves, nothing like the extravagant choreographies he came up with Taemin's help) since he was too busy trying to get a good view of everybody present. His efforts were all in vain since Key didn't see any idol other than Jessica on the dance floor; he did recognize some trainees who had worked as dancers on their sunbaes video clips and shows though. So it looked like Jonghyun had said the truth about idols seldom going to company parties—this actually made the whole Minho-and-Jessica-coming thing even more confusing; Minho wasn't airheaded enough to show up just for Jonghyun, right?

Amid his reflections, Key felt someone tug kindly his hand and he was welcomed by a smug smile from Jessica. She pointed wordlessly to one of the speakers so the student would pay close attention to the music playing—it was the title track of her latest album, a catchy dance song in which Jessica made her first attempt at rapping. "Didn't you claim knowing all my choreographies? Show me what you've got," her voice was challenging, and Key couldn't help but comply with her request.

* * *

Maybe right now Key was limping _a bit_ —dancing when you had your private parts taped in between your legs was definitely getting first place in Kibum's list of _Not so smart things that I have done in life_. Nonetheless, he had something to do and he actually needed it for _yesterday_ , so Key stumbled ungracefully his way by the rooms— _clumsiness is so annoying, how does Jinki-hyung put up with this every day?!_

Key's thoughts drifted to his hyung once more—the elder was the reason behind his haste. Kibum's _umma alarm_ had been activated while he was on the dance floor with Jessica and he caught sight of two _slightly_ drunk men entering the room with (clearly) alcoholic cocktails in hands. He excused himself as fast as realization had hit him, and Jessica shrugged as she shouted over the music a cheered up "see you later."

The student let out a frustrated groan as he peeked for the umpteenth time through the crack of one of the doors on the hallway—where the hell was hyung? Although this had seemed to be a _behaved_ company party at first, Key had already seen a great number of people making out on the corners of the rooms; however he was still pretty grateful for having not run into a truly unpleasant scene _yet_. He clicked his tongue at his own stupidity when a _certain_ room came into his mind—how had he not considered this before?

Because Kibum hated smoking and smokers, but he hated even more knowing that Jinki was one of _them_.

Key soon found the smoking lounge, and he took a deep breath (of _clean_ air) before twisting the doorknob and entering the room. He held back a cough as he felt smoke _wrapping_ him, _wrapping_ his body. _Really, what an abominable habit_.

Since Key was the only "girl" in there, all eyes were on him right when he stepped into the room. He pretended not to take note of them, walking as confidently as one could when in pain as he headed to where Jinki was—all alone; leaned on the balcony railing, a cigarette in between the fingers of his outstretched hand while staring out at Gangnam's skyscrapers in the distance. Key's eyes narrowed upon seeing a bottle of soju by his side.

"You're not having any more of that, mister," he said in a nagging voice, getting hold of said object and placing it farther from Jinki, out of his hyung's reach.

Jinki was startled by Key's sudden appearance, glassy eyes becoming vivid as he saw his cigarette fall on the garden meters below them due to his fright. Instead of getting angry at that, he let out a soundless laugh, "Knowing you, I bet you did it on purpose."

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry," Key rolled his eyes at his hyung careless demeanor. "Jinki, I—" He cut himself off, pursing his lips in doubt, "I should call you Onew, right?"

The man nodded, trailing the fingers of his right hand through his hazel hair, "And your name is…?"

Only now Kibum noticed he still hadn't told Onew his… His alter-ego's name? Anyhow, "I go by the name of Key, _oppa_." He batted eyelashes at the elder, and differently from his boyfriend's reaction, Jinki seemed unfazed by Key's seductive stance. This made the youngster remember why he had come to his hyung, "Jokes aside, please, don't drink too much. You know what happens when you do…" Key trailed off, frown crisping his eyebrows as his masochistic mind emerged unwanted memories to its own pleasure.

There was a hint of shame on Onew's smile, "Yes, ma'am."

Kibum wasn't afraid of Jinki passing out or feeling sick, the actual matter in hand was: hyung didn't get drunk easily. His alcohol endurance was actually admirable (five bottles and a half of soju), however it became something burdensome when he went to drinking parties and alike because Jinki kept on seeing straight as he poured more and more alcohol into his system, whereas the other guests weren't even able to stand still anymore.

Nevertheless, when Jinki did get drunk, you'd better get out of his way—Kibum had experienced this happening only once, and it was enough for a lifetime. Alcohol's happiness turned hyung into some sort of _Casanova_ with sultry eyes, sweet voice and gentle touches. In other words, Jinki became every girl's (and some boy's too) wet dream, which often resulted in him getting laid. Now that his relationship with Taemin had practically reached the "married couple" status, Jinki should be a thousand times more careful.

Plus, Jinki also got the most nonsensical ideas while drinking. Kibum had it fresh in his mind, the first time that he decided to speak his heart out to his hyung—Jinki suggested drowning his worries in alcohol, thus they ended up sitting on the living room floor with dozens of beer cans around them. The TV was on, displaying a boring wrestling match, and Kibum was sprawled on the carpet; his sleepy eyes staring at the ceiling as the effect of all the beer that he'd drunk kicked in. Jinki suddenly thought it would be _cool_ to jump onto Kibum's stomach and start a wrestling match right _there_.

Obviously, Kibum forced Jinki to wipe his vomit off the carpet all by himself, and after this accident they decided ice cream would be _safer_ for their "therapy sessions."

Key parted his lips to answer his hyung (something along the lines of _don't you dare calling me ma'am_ ), however an abrupt, strong pang of pain struck him in a very _personal_ place. He tried crossing his legs to hide his discomfort, but this act only accentuated his ache.

"Kib-Key, are you all right?" Jinki asked after taking note of his dongsaeng's pained features. The man's hands went straight to Key's shoulders, trying to steady the youngster's frame as his legs faltered as if he was wearing high heels.

"Su-sure, Onew, I just…" Key didn't have the strength to finish his sentence, biting his lower lip in an attempt not to moan loudly in pain.

Jinki's naturally narrow eyes became a pair of slits as he gazed at Kibum with a disbelieving expression. "You're lying," Jinki brought his right hand to Key's forehead in order to brush away gleams of cold sweat, and consequently proving his point.

Key gave in, panic clear on his face as he whispered quickly, "Yeah, it's a lie, please take me to the nearest restroom, hyung. _Now_."

Jinki didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

Key and Jinki somehow found a pair of doors with the signs "ladies" and "gentlemen" midst the maze of hallways and rooms of the mansion. Key thanked God for them both being one-room restrooms with a lock on the main door—he had no idea what he would do if they were stalls; he definitely didn't want people to hear his pained moans.

Jinki halted his steps before both doors, a confused expression taking over his features as he eyed warily both gender signs—Kibum was now in drag, so should he go to the ladies' room? But he wasn't actually a lady, so…

Key cut off his hyung's thoughts as he tugged the elder by his hand towards the ladies' room. He pointed to the threshold of the other door, and Jinki mouthed a "I got it" after taking note of the faint light that could be seen through the crack close to the floor—so there was someone inside the men's room, not good.

Finally understanding his dongsaeng's choice, Jinki followed him into the only vacant restroom, flipping on the switch and closing promptly the door behind him. "What's wrong with you? Do you feel like throwing up? Have you eaten today? Because it looks like you're going to faint, maybe you have low blood sugar." Key had his back against the wall opposite to Jinki, purse fallen on the floor and chest moving up and down like mad due to the youngster's heaving. This view did little to ease the elder's worry; each question being asked by a voice that got edgier as each second passed by. "Answer me!" Jinki demanded, impatience showing amid his concern.

"I may have done something stupid… I'm sorry, hyung." Key bit his lower lip, flushing red under Jinki's attentive gaze. He saw the man's hands curl into fists at his vague statement; he knew Jinki wanted him to say everything straightaway, but he also knew Jinki wouldn't press him any further since he didn't wish to make his dongsaeng uncomfortable. Key's voice wasn't louder than a whisper, "I had to hide my—you know. So I used duct tape on—you know. And it seems it turned out to be a bad idea, because I feel as if my—you know—is being pulled apart from me by someone from _Hell_ right now."

Jinki blinked in response, lips sealed as he took in Key's words. The youngster could almost _hear_ the engines inside his hyung's mind work in full swing, trying to process such _broken_ message. It took Jinki a minute to give up, "'You know'?" He quoted Key; eyebrows wrinkled due to the deep frown on his features.

Key let out a frustrated sigh, wig disheveled as he threaded carelessly his fingers through its black hair strands. Why did hyung have to be so _slow_? "'You know' is equal to penis, cock, prick, dick, junk; whatever you call it!" Key rattled all dirty slang he knew, fighting hard against the blush that insisted on spreading on his cheeks.

He stepped forward, grabbing Jinki harshly by his shirt's collar so he could level their eyes, exterminating the infinitesimal height difference between the two of them. (It might be tiny, but Kibum was still proud of being the tallest one.) "I have duct tape on _it_ , hyung, and it hurts. Please, help me." Key didn't hesitate letting go of his tough act to start begging, pleading eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Now that he had been finally informed of the root of the problem, Jinki was displaying such a do-or-die expression that Key didn't know if he was lucky or cursed for having his hyung's help. Either way, the student couldn't help getting flustered at the elder's following words, "Take off your shorts." This was said in a neutral tone though, as if Jinki had just made a random remark about the weather.

When all he got back was a tomato-faced Key, the elder snapped his fingers impatiently, "Kibum, there's no time for that." This was Jinki on his ultra-hyung mode; the more he got worried over his dongsaeng, the more cutting he was.

Kibum knew his hyung meant well; nonetheless, he couldn't fight against the red tingeing his cheeks bit by bit as Jinki brought his hands to his roommate's crotch, unbuttoning his jeans right away. "Stop blushing, you know I've seen it all already," Jinki clicked his tongue, and Key knew his hyung was right, but it was _too much_ for him. _God, today I'll die of shame; that's it, my day has come._

Speechless, Key leaned back on the nearest wall, closing his eyes hard as he felt the piece of clothing slide along his legs until it pooled around his feet on the floor. He heard Jinki clear his throat as he stalled his moves, "Kibum, I reckon you'd rather take off your bathing suit yourself."

"You thought right," this was said in a small voice, Kibum's usual sharpness being completely drowned out by mortification. He undid with shaking hands the lace knots that tied his bathing suit around his slim frame, pushing it down his legs with as much dignity as he could. Key silently thanked his hyung for keeping a straight face when his fake boobs fell on the floor. "I know this will sound weird, but… Give me your hand, hyung," he requested, not so flustered anymore. Yes, this whole situation was awfully awkward, however Kibum couldn't simply tiptoe around it; it had to be done.

Jinki offered his hand almost instantly, and Key's left one enclosed an iron grip around it as his right one headed south. Somewhere in the back of his mind Kibum thought of how _inelegant_ this was—there he was, trapped between his hyung and a wall, holding hands with said hyung as he tried to get rid of a goddammed piece of duct tape glued to his… His manhood.

Key clenched his teeth hard, and Jinki closed his eyes out of sympathy for his dongsaeng when he heard the loud sound of duct tape being severed from skin. He remembered making a bet with a friend of his when they both had been drunk: who would be able to endure a duct tape hair removal in _complete_ silence. Jinki didn't recall if he ended up being the winner, however the image of a patch of red skin on his thigh would never leave his mind for sure.

Jinki waited for Kibum's breathing to even out before freeing his hand from the youngster's strong hold. He got the piece of duct tape from Kibum's other hand, and threw it towards the garbage bin—obviously, Jinki's missed it and the translucent plastic fell on the floor. Key chuckled at his hyung's ever defective aim, all his previous pain being replaced little by little by relief and gratitude. "Thanks, hyung," he had to say it, even though he knew Jinki would only shrug at this.

Jinki sat on the toilet seat lid, legs crossed while he observed mutely his dongsaeng fix his makeup, wig and clothes. "It seems you carry the whole world inside this bag of yours," he remarked with an amused smile on his lips as he saw Kibum get more and more cosmetic items out of his purse.

"Don't you dare calling it a _mere_ bag, this is a Louis Vuitton purse," Key pointed his blush brush menacingly at Jinki, but he was untouched by the other's carefree grin.

It took Jinki ten minutes to muster up enough courage to complain about Kibum's tardiness, "You know, that's why I don't like women." He tried to say it lightly as if not caring too much about it, because one could never point out a fault of Kibum's otherwise he'd enhance this same fault just out of spite.

However, since Kibum was Kibum, he already had a snarky comeback at the tip of his tongue, "Funny, your boyfriend is never on time for your dates, and he doesn't even go through the trouble of getting late to look fine for you. Taemin just gets late because that's what Taemin does." Key shrugged, and this move was filled with sarcastic conceitedness.

After this, Jinki obviously kept himself quiet for the rest of Key's grooming. None of them had any idea how much time had passed when the youngster finally said the words Jinki had longed so much for, "Let's go, I'm ready." Key gave one more quick look at his figure through the mirror, doorknob under his right hand and an expectant Jinki behind him. "Oh, wait, we can't go," Key grimaced at his own reflection, and then turned to his hyung with hopeless eyes, "It shows."

A glimpse of Kibum's crotch was more than enough for Jinki to understand his vague statement. "Here, hide it with this," the elder came up with the idea right away (gee, he just wanted to get back to the party to eat and talk with his coworkers), stripping himself of his beige jacket and handing it to his dongsaeng.

Any other time Kibum would have questioned his hyung for bringing a _jacket_ to a pool party, but for now he'd go easy on Jinki—after all, the man deserved _at least_ this after all the embarrassment Kibum had forced him to go through. Borrowed jacket tied tightly around his waist, Key finally twisted the doorknob, and he tried hard not to giggle at Jinki's loud sigh of relief.

However, the lighthearted mood between them two quickly vanished when they stepped into the hallway and caught sight of the men's room door being opened across from them.

Key could see his surprised face reflected on Jonghyun's eyes.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun is caught with his hands in the cookie jar for the second time, and Kibum experiences PMS (Profound Misunderstanding and Shame) for the first time in his life.

Jonghyun buttoned his board shorts, unfazed by the view of Minho spitting his come in the trash bin nearby. The rapper then splashed some cold water on his face, pausing his action for a moment to see himself through the mirror, "I think I'll have to take a dip in the pool to get rid of the sex scent." Minho got some tap water so he could gargle; he resumed speaking after emptying his mouth, spitting inside the sink this time, "I can't sing a duet with Jessica smelling like this."

The post-sex blissfulness quickly faded away from Jonghyun's features upon the mention of the woman's name. "Well, I didn't ask you to blow me," he replied acidly, leaning his back on the closest wall with arms crossed over his chest as he observed his boyfriend.

Minho didn't allow Jonghyun's grumpy behavior to bum him out, "I did it because I wanted to," he turned to the elder with lovestruck eyes, and Jonghyun didn't melt under his gaze only because he had built some endurance for it after all their months together.

"You airhead," the rapper's romantic act ended up failing at easing Jonghyun's bad mood, "Blow me as much as you want; I'm still pissed with you." Jonghyun pursed his lips, the fingers of his right hand tapping at his left forearm absentmindedly.

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be the elder and the wisest between the two of us," Minho ignored the other's grumbled complaint ( _I'm not_ **_that_ ** _older than you_ ), "You're pretty immature sometimes. Get over it, Jonghyun." His mildly brisk words were said in a strangely kind voice.

"'Get over it'? It's art, Minho; we're talking about _art_." Jonghyun stated it as if it were very obvious, and there was a hint of disappointment in his tone for Minho not thinking the same. His sentence seemed to trigger something in his own brain, and the professor turned to his boyfriend with unfocused eyes; uncountable thoughts coming at him all at once. "When it comes to art, everything is gray since there's no black and white. So, in the end, who's to say I'm being immature?"

Minho frowned at Jonghyun's sudden realization; every now and then the elder blurted out random remarks without rhyme or reason and the rapper never truly knew how to react to them, "God, why must you always take things so seriously?" Although this was said in a whiny manner, Minho's features soon became naughty as he let go of the hand towel in order to trap Jonghyun against the wall. Hands on both sides of the professor's head, Minho brought his face closer to the elder's; lips brushing against his ear as he whispered, "I can't complain though, after all, I fell for you because of this sexy glare of yours."

Jonghyun sighed in response and Minho misinterpreted it as a sign to advance, lips trailing down the elder's neck while tracing soft kisses; careful not to leave any marks behind.

Jonghyun's sigh had actually been an exhausted one—he was tired, he was tired of being misunderstood. Minho believed there was only some foolish aversion between Jessica and Jonghyun, when it was something way more _monumental_. And his current frustration at Minho was too due to something bigger—frankly, Jonghyun highly doubted Minho would ever come to comprehend him art-wise one day.

As clichéd as it might sound to some people, music was everything to Jonghyun, and he simply couldn't picture himself by the side of someone who wasn't part of such _vital_ facet of his life. However, Jonghyun would just turn a blind eye to all these worrisome thoughts for now—after all, it was no secret that no relationship was safe from flaws, yet what few people knew was that deliberated ignorance was the secret for a long-lasting relationship.

Eyes closed shut at the tender sensation of lips pressed against a particular spot under his right ear, Jonghyun breathed out, "Let's get out; you gotta get ready for your duet." Even though he was the one who said it, Jonghyun himself didn't look willing to follow his own advice; face flushed red due to his boyfriend's teasing.

Minho was the strong one, breaking up all body contact between the two of them and heading for the door with not so determined steps, "Hyung, I'll sing for you, so stop with the long face." The rapper's displayed a cute, enthusiastic expression all of a sudden, and Jonghyun couldn't hold back a small smile at that, consequently attending to his boyfriend's request. Pleased, Minho opened the door and they stepped out of the restroom, but Jonghyun's moves came to a halt right away when he took in the pair of startled faces staring straight at them from across the hall.

Holy shit.

Key's wide open eyes were glued to Jonghyun's figure, surprise twisting her features into an almost horrified expression. _Fuck, no, no, no_. She might be a pretty smart and all-around girl, however this was certainly _too much_ for her—Jonghyun bet his _whole_ college professor's salary that Key was raised by a couple of orthodox parents who taught her same-sex relationships were disgusting Devil's creation. Jonghyun had no trouble picturing Key bidding her parents farewell as they warned her of the dangers present in the "big city"— _stay away from these nasty gays when you get to Seoul, my dear child, otherwise they'll corrupt you and you won't go to heaven when your time has come._ Such a comforting parting, eh?

Jonghyun sensed he had just fallen off the pedestal inside Key's mind—what a shame, she had so much potential… He had even started pondering on taking in more disciples in the future thanks to her. Yet no disciple was good enough if infected by moronic, homophobic principles, so the professor shouldn't be feeling this heartbreak-like sensation for letting Key go, right? Unfortunately, it seemed that his body paid no mind to his commands, insisting on spreading this uncomfortable sorrow through his whole being. Go figure.

By Key's side was a stone-faced Onew, and upon seeing his coworker Jonghyun felt like thanking the gods whom he didn't believe in for that—Onew would surely take this to his grave; gossip wasn't his thing. Plus, he himself was gay, so neither Jonghyun nor Minho would get any judgmental glares from the songwriter.

What? Hold on a second.

Onew was by Key's side—Onew, _gay_ Onew. Why had they gotten into the ladies' room together? Jonghyun had jumped to the conclusion that his orientation wasn't a secret anymore because Key had seen him getting out of a restroom with another man—well, what else (other than sex) would two people do inside a restroom?

Key and Onew?

No way.

If there was indeed such thing as a gaydar, Jonghyun's would surely beep crazily whenever he was around Onew—no, the elder wasn't flamboyant or anything alike; he was just _openly_ gay. Truth be told, Jonghyun hadn't been that surprised by the whole come out thing (Onew had never expressed any interest whatsoever in women during the previous company parties); what had him startled was SM's reaction: they didn't mind. SM didn't mind that one of their employees was _gay_. As astounding as it might be, Jonghyun still didn't have the guts to do the same—he wasn't one to brag, however he suspected he'd never get away with coming out since he was a more _public figure_ (in other words: more _famous_ ).

Anyhow, what actually mattered was: Onew was gay so he and Key certainly didn't do anything _inappropriate_ in the restroom, so what had they actually done? And since when did they know each other? Had they met today at the party? Questions were reproducing like rabbits as they popped inside Jonghyun's mind; at this rate, his brain was going to short-circuit.

This was one hell of an embarrassing situation; silence drawing itself out while all four people stared at each other with mixed looks of awkwardness, confusion and mortification. Before Jonghyun could finally come up with an idea to cut off this flustering scene (after all, movies and TV dramas had already proved that saying the clichéd "It's not what you think" never worked), Minho suddenly shrugged; such unconcerned action so contrary to the air thick with tension around them.

"Onew-ssi, Key-ssi," Minho called them out with an unexpected outgoing attitude, "Jessica and I will be soon singing on the stage outside, I hope you'll check out our performance" He displayed one of his toothbrush CF's smiles before walking away and dragging a still stunned Jonghyun with him.

The professor struggled to keep up with the rapper's long legs, voice cracking due to the sudden physical effort, "What the fuck was that?" He asked while they walked along the hallway.

Minho let go of his wrist as they reached the crowded space outdoors. "I have no fucking idea," he confessed, and a nervous giggle fell from his lips; Minho still hadn't absorbed what had just happened, "But one thing I'm sure: we suck at hiding our relationship. I'm surprised no paparazzi have caught us yet."

Jonghyun was taken aback by the sheer certainty behind his boyfriend's words, and he was about to inquire him further on it when Minho turned to him with apologetic eyes, "Jessica will kill me if I get late to our performance; we'll talk about this later, ok?"

He walked away before Jonghyun had the chance to reply.

* * *

Key turned to Jinki with such a desolated expression on his face that the elder could practically feel his own heart shattering in response to his dongsaeng's helplessness. "Kibum—"

The student cut Jinki off right away, "Hyung, I…" His voice was filled with distress, and Jinki frowned at that—Kibum had been indeed astonished by the whole _ordeal_ , but it seemed to be for a whole different reason. The following words were spoken so fast that Jinki had trouble taking them in, "I won't insult you by asking you to keep it a secret; after all these years living together I am a hundred percent sure you're the most trustworthy person in the whole Universe."

Jinki blushed faintly at this compliment; however, what really caught his attention was Kibum's controlled voice—his dongsaeng was already aware of Choi Minho and Jonghyun's relationship. Actually, Jinki should have predicted that, since the professor and Kibum were getting closer as time passed, and sharing personal information was a mere consequence of that.

Nonetheless, Jinki could feel _fear_ radiating from his dongsaeng— _oh, Jonghyun saw both of us getting out of the restroom; this will probably make things complicated for "Key"_. Jinki wished to help his roommate, however Kibum knew he had dug his own grave when he set off this crazy plan of his, so now he had to learn his lesson.

"I'll go to the dance floor," Key's features were blank as he informed this, and Jinki didn't stop him from walking away with slow steps—he would respect Kibum's wish.

Despite that, sympathy took over the elder's face, "Let's have ice cream when we get home." Jinki suggested in a carefree tone, hoping it'd ease his dongsaeng's bad mood.

Key laughed briefly at that, and Jinki could easily picture the pleased smile on his lips although Kibum's back was still turned to him. "Why, thank you, hyung," with this, the youngster left his hyung behind.

Feeling now less apprehensive for Kibum, Jinki too walked away from the restroom, heading outdoors—although he knew Minho had invited them for his performance only for the sake of breaking off that uncomfortable silence, the songwriter found himself mildly interested, and wished to see their duet.

Jinki had to confess he was still a bit shocked though; Minho and Jonghyun were gay? Wow. Well, actually male idol and gay did seem to be synonyms nowadays (Onew had more than once run into some _nasty_ when walking around SM's building), but he still hadn't seen that coming. However, since he wasn't one to waste time caring about other people's lives, Jinki's mind soon let go of the matter as a waiter offered him one of the wine glasses disposed on a serving tray. Jinki accepted it gladly ( _shh_ , Kibum didn't have to know about it), walking over to a vacant table where he supposed he'd have a good view of the stage.

He observed the party unwind itself as more guests got closer to the stage with curious faces; being attracted by some staff people who were checking if the sound equipment was working just fine. The impending show had everybody expectant; Jinki could hear some whispered remarks ( _Ah! So Minho and Jessica came here to sing!..._ ), and anticipation was almost tangible in the air.

Jinki's ears suddenly caught the sound of a more high-pitched tone; Jessica was by the stage lecturing a shirtless Minho for swimming right before their performance. Their bickering, seen from afar, seemed to be humorously childish, and the songwriter had to refrain himself from laughing.

However, his distraction was interrupted when a chair was placed by his side all of a sudden. Chocolate hair, prominent jawline, plump lips—Jinki saw out of the corner of his eye Jonghyun sit down mutely, yet he pretended not to notice his presence, afraid of being questioned about the restroom incident.

Obviously, because this was _Jonghyun_ , silence was soon exterminated.

"Sunbaenim?" He called the elder hesitantly as if he didn't truly want to talk to Jinki even though he was the one who had spoken up first.

The respectful honorific caught Jinki's attention, "Sunbaenim? You write lyrics and I compose melodies; we're from different fields so there's no need for that." Jinki decided to act naturally even though he knew they weren't going to just shoot the breeze; Jonghyun clearly had ulterior reasons for engaging Jinki in conversation.

"Actually, I've been researching melody writing for some while now, so I kind of see you as a sunbaenim." Jonghyun scratched timidly the back of his neck as these words were said in a somewhat reverential voice; there was also something _more_ in his tone, but Jinki could quite put a finger on it.

Still, his lips curled in a small smile as he answered, "Is that so? Funny, I've been trying out lyric-writing too." Although he had said it lightheartedly, Jinki was starting to feel a bit impatient; he was actually a pretty tolerant person, however he really disliked beating around the bush and Jonghyun was _obviously_ doing so.

"You are too?" The professor's forehead wrinkled in mild surprise, "Despite that, please, don't call me sunbaenim because you're still older than me," Jonghyun replied with a polite grin even though he wasn't facing the other man; his eyes trained on the stage. On Minho.

Jinki simply shrugged in response, resuming his carefree act—but not for too long. "Age is just a number." A face showed up in his mind upon saying these words—blond hair, heart-shaped lips and dreamy eyes: Taemin. Yes, age was just a number; their age gap would never break them apart. Jinki's cute boyfriend aside, Jonghyun was apparently getting nowhere without help, so he might as well give his dongsaeng a hand, "But you didn't approach me to talk about honorifics, right?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically, and only _now_ Jonghyun didn't falter looking Jinki in the eye.

"You're right. Onew-ssi, do you know Kim Kibum?"

* * *

Key was a puppet; his mindless moves resulted from his strings being pulled up and down to the beat of the music playing on the background, while his feet stepped around the dance floor without any definite destination. Kibum was currently on _automatic mode_ simply because he had too much to deal with right now—his brain was throbbing, brimming with worries; he didn't even know which matter to mope over first.

Now that he could think _slightly_ straight, Kibum had realized that he could easily turn a blind eye to Minho and his professor sharing the men's room (he could play dumb, after all, didn't he do it often?) because Key was a character created by he himself; if Kibum wished to, Key could become an open-minded person within the snap of a finger. This matter might have been solved, yet the root of his stress was in fact _Onew_.

Jonghyun had seen them together; this might seem to be no big deal, but it actually meant that the professor was getting dangerously close to Kibum, since he and Key now had mutual friends—in _theory_. Key's motions on the dance floor got suddenly sharp as he reminded himself of his failure at talking with Jonghyun about his grade—if he hadn't tried to outwit his professor that day, he wouldn't have his hands tied right now.

Plus, he had to come up with a lie to the whole getting-into-the-restroom-with-Onew thing because he couldn't say something like _I taped my cock in between my legs and my roommate had to give me a hand, if you know what I mean._ Kibum was truly grateful for his hyung helping him out, however… However he had the feeling that Key had hit rock bottom after being caught by his professor with another man in a compromising situation—what would Jonghyun think of him, of her? What if he thought Onew and Key were dating? Hold on, this was not possible since Onew was openly gay. Darn, now Kibum couldn't even resort to sex to justify his whole suspecting confidentiality with Jinki.

God, what a mess. The show had ended for Key for real this time.

He exited the room as he came to this miserable realization; there was a dark cloud raining on Key's parade and he was too depressed to dance anymore. Now, he craved for alcohol, so Key might as well forget his own rules and roll the dice—after all, he had already screwed everything up and it couldn't get possibly worse, right? Key saw a waitress walking down the hall, and he had just called her when his eyes caught sight of an Armani suit.

Something _clicked_ inside Kibum's mind, and when the waitress approached him, he couldn't care _less_ about cocktails. Key flashed his best smile, the coy one which had anybody (regardless of gender) on their knees before him, "Can you please give me a piece of paper and a pen?"

* * *

"Onew-ssi, do you know Kim Kibum?"

Jinki's roommate's face flashed into his mind out of habit upon the mention of his name, but the elder soon dropped it—after all, how could Jonghyun link him to Kibum? _Unless he has seen through Key_ …, an alerted voice whispered back, however the elder shrugged it off and preferred not to jump to conclusions recklessly; Kibum was the one supposed to suffer from paranoia, not Jinki. The only other Kim Kibum known by Jinki was that drama actor, so he kept himself mute since he reckoned Jonghyun had probably referred to none of them.

Jonghyun decided to describe the person after taking note of sheer cluelessness on the elder's face, "Pink hair, high cheekbones and peculiar eyes." He had deemed this information enough; anyone who knew _this_ Kim Kibum would easily recognize him by these traits alone. Jonghyun's presumption was soon proved true when he saw his senior's eyes gleam briefly in recognition.

Yep, that was definitely Kibum— _Jinki's_ _dongsaeng Kim Kibum_. Not sure how to react, Jinki tried to conceal his growing anxiety by exhibiting an unconcerned demeanor. "…I do." Jinki couldn't lie to Jonghyun since the man had read his features, but he didn't quite know what else to say; what would Kibum want him to answer? "Why?" This was a plausible inquiry, right? After all, people did it all the time when asked about acquaintances, right?

Jinki licked his lips nervously and this act didn't go unnoticed by Jonghyun, who frowned in response. People didn't usually feel troubled when asked about a friend—why would they? Onew's reaction would have been unreasonable if Jonghyun hadn't recognized _it_ ; this immediate agitation that was normally reserved for the _special_ ones—boyfriends, girlfriends, _lovers_. Jonghyun himself had experienced this before; the mere mention of Minho's name in a magazine or on the news was enough to have his heart racing crazily during their first months together.

Whoa, then it meant Onew and Kim Kibum were lovers?

Jonghyun cleared his throat noisily as he pushed these superfluous thoughts to the back of his mind (his coworkers' and students' relationships were none of his business), "Kim Kibum is a student of mine. We had a talk regarding an assignment grade and he suddenly quoted my lyrics—you know, the ones you are writing a melody for?"

"Oh." And Jinki's poor speech struck again. In fact, the elder was at a complete loss for words; Kibum hadn't told him that—what the hell? And Jinki didn't remember ever showing his dongsaeng Jonghyun's lyrics, so how had Kibum?… Jonghyun had showed them to Key, and then Kibum confused himself when speaking to the professor with no disguise on? Jinki couldn't believe that the always so careful Kibum had stumbled on his act _that hard_. He knew the youngster had dug his own grave, yet nailing his own coffin was _suicide_. "About this, Jonghyun- _ssi_ , I—" Jinki emphasized the honorific, being politer than usual as if intending to make up for his "supposed misdeed."

Jonghyun interrupted him mid-sentence, displaying a business-like stance all of a sudden, "With all due respect, Onew-ssi, but _I believe_ you are aware of SM's guidelines, so you do realize it's strictly forbidden to disclose any information on upcoming songs to anyone, regardless of your relation with them—family, lover, _whatever_." He stated this with his professor voice, a sober and even tone which would have sounded disrespectful towards Onew if the elder had been paying close attention to it.

However, Jinki was now too concerned by the idea of losing his job—would Jonghyun inform this to their superiors? Thanks to SM, Onew had finally achieved a stable life economically after so many years playing the piano at restaurants without knowing if he'd have enough money to eat on the following day—he couldn't afford to get back to this life. Plus, Jinki also had to look after Kibum, though they did split all house expenses. A betrayed-like sensation started to creep into Jinki; he had never taken Jonghyun for a snitch. Nonetheless, he wouldn't bother putting up a fight nor correcting the professor's presumptions; truth be told, Jinki _couldn't_ do so otherwise he'd give Kibum/Key away. "What are you going to do?" 

"Nothing." Jonghyun shrugged, yet the strain on said motion was clearly noticed by the two of them. The lyricist had other worry in mind now—the view of Onew's expressionless face as he took in Minho and Jonghyun exiting the men's room. To assure word wouldn't leak, he added, "And so are you." Any outsider would presume this was an order of Jonghyun's, but the knowing look on his eyes told Jinki he was merely stating a fact; he knew the elder would keep his lips sealed.

Jinki nodded at that, "Is that all?" He wasn't rude when saying this, and it actually disconcerted Jonghyun to see his senior so _obedient_. The lyricist assented to his question, feeling a faint blush spreading on his cheeks as an uncomfortable shame disturbed lightly his conscience for being so imposing on his hyung. This added to getting his message through made a mildly flustered Jonghyun avert his eyes from Onew's, suddenly taking interest in his boyfriend singing onstage.

Minho's features were way more serious than usual, as they always got when he was singing ballad songs. Jessica was by his side, brow furrowed in concentration as she sang the lyrics softly—Jonghyun still remembered about the time she confessed her great fear for singing out of tune, which made her too tense to express properly the emotion present in her songs when singing live.

Minho, on the other hand, conveyed these feelings perfectly, and Jonghyun sensed a hint of truth when he sang his line ( _Heartbreaking stories, meaningless arguments_ ). It was followed by Jessica's " _Let’s bury them all now,_ " and Jonghyun pursed his lips as their talk in the restroom flooded back to his mind. Not wishing to think this through right now, the professor faced the songwriter sat by his side once more, "How is the melody-writing process going?"

Onew, too, seemed to be into the performance, for he stared back at Jonghyun with a blank face for a couple of _long_ seconds before finally comprehending the man's question, "I am going to hand in the lead sheet tomorrow; they'll probably let you know about the music production sometime during the week." A content smile curled Jinki's lips, and Jonghyun felt a familiar weight leave his shoulders upon this sight—he always got a bit nervous while waiting for songwriters to finish working with his lyrics, but according to Onew's honest grin there was nothing to worry about; the elder seemed truly _satisfied_ with the melody he had come up with.

After glancing at Jonghyun's relieved stance, Jinki even pondered on keeping himself quiet, however he still had one matter to address with the lyricist, "Aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask what?" Jonghyun frowned, finding Onew's question too random and sudden for him to keep up with. The elder's narrowed eyes told him he wasn't talking about work—if it wasn't about their song, then… Oh, the restroom episode. Frankly, Jonghyun was curious—he still wished to know what Onew and Key were doing locked up in the ladies' room, even though he was probably never going to see the girl again since she had found out about his sexual orientation. Despite Jonghyun being a pretty nosy person, he wouldn't submit his hyung to his questions; Jonghyun had disturbed Onew too much for the day, "No. I'll respect your privacy as you have respected mine and Minho's."

Jinki raised an eyebrow at that—was Jonghyun trying to play the grown-up one? The elder wouldn't question him though, since the lyricist granting him the benefit of the doubt actually spared Jinki from making up lies, which he sucked at.

Jonghyun faced the stage once again, lower lip caught in between his teeth as he saw Minho and Jessica walk slowly towards each other while singing the last verse of the song ( _Let’s never have the same feelings we had today_ ). The duet ended under loud cheering and applause, and some guests even went through the trouble of standing up to express their deep appreciation for the idols' performance.

After bowing, Jessica and Minho stepped down from the stage with wide smiles plastered on their faces. When they were about to get back to the mansion, Minho threw a warm glance at Jonghyun's direction, who simply lowered his eyes as he tried to hide his pleased expression.

This whole exchange happened under Jinki's stare, who shook his head in reaction to Minho's careless act. First they got together in the restroom in a company party; then they thought they could swap loving gazes at each other in public? These kids were too reckless; they were constantly testing their luck and this was _completely_ uncalled-for—it was as if they wanted to be found out. "You're still too young," Jinki pointed out apologetically, breaking the silence between them.

"You're only one year older than me," Jonghyun replied almost automatically, without truly absorbing the real meaning of Onew's sentence. None of them were facing each other, they both had their gazes locked ahead, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the staff people who were putting away all sound equipment on the stage. Obviously, this was only an excuse not to meet each other's eyes.

Jinki clicked his tongue, however his voice was free of disapproval and only pity remained when he said, "I am not talking about age. One day you'll learn." 

Jonghyun was taken aback by Onew's remark, feeling a unique wisdom _drip_ from each word. He was practically honored for having Onew give him such priceless piece of advice, yet Jonghyun still didn't quite grasp the gist of it—nevertheless, he acknowledged its value. He would surely keep these words engraved in his mind for future reflection, "Thank you, hyung." Jonghyun opened a small smile and faced Onew at last, wishing to ease the serious mood between them, "You sound just like an old man though."

Jinki laughed at that and he surprised himself by being louder than usual, hand in front of his face self-consciously as he lowered his head so people wouldn't catch sight of him with his mouth wide open ungracefully. So Jonghyun had gotten back to normal, eh? Jinki still remembered the first time the lyricist called him an old man; it had been at a 80s-themed company party, when Onew refused to join his coworkers at the dance floor—dancing simply wasn't his cup of tea, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Seeing Jonghyun's humorous smile made Jinki change his mind all of a sudden, "Nothing happened." The words spilled from his lips on the spur of the moment, completely out of context; yet Jonghyun's eyes shone briefly in realization nonetheless.

When he finally replied, his face was sober; all traces of his amused behavior washed away by aggravation, "I know." Jonghyun's voice was filled with certainty, and Jinki knew why he was so sure of that—although _You're gay_ had been left unsaid, they were both aware of it.

This only peaked Jonghyun's curiosity higher—what the fuck were Key and Onew doing together in a restroom if they weren't banging? Did he know her real name? Where had Onew met Key? Jonghyun had a prickling gut feeling; something was poking him deep inside—he refused to acknowledge it; Jonghyun couldn't be _jealous_ , right?

"Thanks anyway," despite these words being kind, the professor had a strange look on his face. He suddenly stood up and bowed absentmindedly before leaving the table. In his haste, Jonghyun didn't even spare a glance to the clueless older man, who didn't know what he had said wrong.

It seemed that Jinki's social abilities were top quality.

* * *

Key had his left hand closed protectively around a piece of paper folded in half—he could declaim the words inscribed on it by heart; _girls, girls, girls are too hard for me_ … After learning about the great importance held by the guy in Armani suit, an idea popped right away inside Kibum's fruitful mind and now he'd certainly take his chance to perform it—after all, when would fate offer him this opportunity again? Kibum was sure his lyrics deserved something way better than an "F" grade and he'd prove it—prove it to _Jonghyun_.

At first, Key had considered spilling wine on the man's clothes, however it was an _Armani_ suit; no way in hell would he have the guts to commit such a fashion's deadly sin. Thus, Key ended up simply sat on a couch as far as possible from his _target_ , keeping an eye out for the man's every move while waiting patiently for an opening to come his way.

The man still had a swarm of people around him just like when Key had first seen him; expectant faces taking in every word of his, respectful eyes following every hand gesture of his. Key bet they were talking about something very boring, like economy or politics, by taking into account the serious mood hovering over them— _tsk_ , this was a pool party, weren't people supposed to have fun?

However, Key soon got his chance—the man stepped out of the swarm and waved briefly to the people as if he were dismissing them, then he walked away with an apologetic expression on his face, one which was clearly out of politeness. Key observed this whole exchange in silence, and when the man was finally out of the room, the student stood up slowly not to attract any attention and started strolling casually towards the door. In the meantime, Key's eyes turned glassy and his features became expressionless; he was getting ready for his act.

Key saw from afar the man heading for the restroom, and he didn't bother following him to his destination—the men's room was located at the end of the hallway, so the man would surely have to return all his way. With this in mind, Key got into one of the rooms closest to the restroom, waiting by the door for some sign that the man was coming back. Thank God, Key found himself all alone in this room—it would have been just too weird and too hard to explain if guests caught sight of him in his "007" stance.

Key heard footsteps down the hallway, getting nearer him as each second passed.

 _It's now or never, Kibum_. Key took a deep breath before stepping out of the room.

He ran into an unexpectedly hard chest, which made him stumble on his suddenly wobbly legs, and consequently fall on the floor.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you, miss…?" A deep voice resonated close to Kibum's ear, but he didn't quite make out what had been said.

Key was a bit dizzy and he felt an uncomfortable sensation around his chest as if a weight was pressing him down against the cold flooring. _What a timing indeed_ , Kibum smiled inwardly although in pain—this all had been premeditated, obviously; however he hadn't predicted such a hard fall. _Ouch_ , his head hurt.

"I—" Key started, but he interrupted himself when his voice cracked, his own loudness increasing the pain on his skull. When Key's sight wasn't so blurred anymore, he was able to focus his eyes on the man knelt by his side.

He took note of the faint blush creeping over the man's cheeks— _oh_ , he was embarrassed. The man was embarrassed for having fallen on Key? Why? This was a weird situation, not an embarrassing one. _You're a girl right now, Key_ , the student reminded himself. _Oh, right_. "I'm sorry, sir, it was my fault—" He began apologizing while raising his torso hesitantly, afraid of feeling more pain.

"Of course it wasn't your fault, how could someone be guilty of falling?" The man let out a relaxed chuckle absolutely unlike his uptight attire, and this sound added to the irony behind the man's words made Key restrain an amused giggle. "Please, let me help you," he asked solicitously upon noticing the youngster's struggle to rise to his feet, and he didn't wait for an answer before draping one arm over Key's shoulder and holding hands with him in order to sustain his weight.

Key was startled by the man's sudden initiative at body contact, but he allowed it since it had been his objective since the beginning. So Key leaned against the man, standing up with some trouble, "Thank you very much, sir." Key displayed a carefree smile to show he wasn't feeling any pain, and although this was just for the show, he could feel his headache indeed lessening bit by bit.

"Are you sure? I swear I heard your head hit the floor pretty hard, it must have hurt." The man blabbed, but Key wasn't paying any attention to him as he busied himself with freeing his left hand from the man's hold without him noticing.

Key finally managed to sneakily slip the piece of paper inside the man's jacket's pocket, and he pretended briefly to smooth down the wrinkles on the piece of clothing caused by their fall in order to conceal his doing. Key forced himself to feign ignorance when he felt the body shudder under his touch, however he had to hold back a disgusted grimace as he retreated his hand and stepped away so there would be some distance between them.

"No, I'm a hundred percent fine, sir, thanks for your concern," Key said this politely, even though distaste was starting to seep into him in response to the man's suspicious reaction to his touch.

Fearing that the man would make a move on him if he prolonged their exchange any longer, Key gave a ninety-degree bow to make up for his rude haste; turning his back to the man and walking down the hallway towards the man's opposite direction.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

When Key got outdoors, he was surprised for finding staff people already clearing up the tables and buffets; even the stage had been dismantled. He had completely lost track of time, what time was it? He fished his cell phone out of his purse, eyes going round at the numbers displayed on the screen: six in the afternoon. It might still be early for most people, however Kibum couldn't get home late since he had classes tomorrow morning. Also, he simply couldn't afford to sleep poorly for now he was getting dead tired on a daily basis thanks to Jonghyun.

Another problem came to mind upon the mention of his professor's name: how would he get home? Jonghyun had driven him here, but Kibum didn't know for sure anymore the state of their partnership after Key found out about his relationship with Minho. Maybe he should take a cab? Yet, Kibum was a total penny-pincher, and he hated spending money on easily perishable items such as food and means of transportation. Would somebody give him a ride if he asked for one?

Key was sitting on one of the few chairs left on the courtyard, chin on his hands and elbows on his knees, when he felt a warm hand land on his right shoulder. He jumped off his chair, standing on his two feet in a fluid motion after recognizing who had just addressed him, "Oppa!" Key cringed inwardly at his own overly enthusiastic voice; he shouldn't feel this mix of joy and _relief_ for seeing his professor alone.

Nevertheless, Jonghyun was wearing a sober expression as if he were about to give a lecture on a very important subject, but Key caught glimpse of something akin to astonishment in his eyes in response to the student's reaction. Key cocked his head to the side curiously as he waited for the man to speak up; he was really impressed that Jonghyun still hadn't questioned him about being seen with Onew. However, Key had decided to pretend the restroom episode had never happened for now, since he hadn't come up with a good lie yet and he sensed that here wasn't a good place to discuss this. Plus, he needed a ride.

"Let's go home," Jonghyun was incisive, and he didn't wait for Key's reply before heading for the mansion. The youngster managed to keep up with the professor's fast strides in no time, and they walked mutely along the lengthy hallway. Key was starting to feel uncomfortable for the imminent silence that would fall over them, but it never happened—instead, they both heard a high-pitched voice from somewhere behind them.

"Key, hey!" The student braced himself right away, for this calling was soon followed by the sound of high heels stomping noisily against the wooden flooring. Key felt arms surround him, and a smiley Jessica snuck in between Jonghyun and him, "Professor, were you leaving without waiting for me? How mean!" She pouted childishly, still arm in arm with Key.

Key thought Jonghyun would simply ignore Jessica's inquiry since he seemed to have taken in a hell of an aloof demeanor, so he was mildly shocked when the professor answered her politely, "I thought you were already outside with Minho." Jessica rolled her eyes at that while mumbling something about being left behind, and then _yep_ , Jonghyun didn't reply her this time.

When they got to the driveway, Jonghyun's SUV and a black van were parked side by side near the water fountain, everything set to go home. Minho had his back casually against Jonghyun's car as if he were shooting a very manly automobile CF, and Key frowned at the sight of the rapper—indeed there were only some valets around the area, but wasn't it still too risky for them to be seen together? And it looked like now that Key knew their secret, they didn't even bother to hide it—Kibum didn't enjoy this at all; he wanted to go home and stop worrying over a _dummy_ who obviously didn't give a damn about anything.

Key's eyes narrowed upon seeing Jonghyun walk over to Minho nonchalantly so he would stand by his boyfriend's side while the rapper slid the black van's door wide open for Jessica, a gentleman grin on Minho's face as he did it— _when will this guy act naturally? We aren't on TV, for Christ's sake_ ; Key grumbled mentally, repressing the urge of rolling his eyes in despise.

The student didn't quite process what was happening upon finding himself being dragged towards the van by Jessica, "Wait, what—" He started to ask, but it was too late—he had been already _placed_ inside the automobile, a small gap between his and Jessica's seats located on the middle row.

Minho seemed to not have heard Key's questioning, "Bye, girls, have a good week." He flashed one of his perfect smiles before sliding the door closed; it was quickly followed by the sound of engines running ( _of course_ there was a chauffeur), and they were soon driving around the streets of Gangnam.

Jessica cared to explain herself after taking note of the puzzled look on Key's face, "Minho asked for us to leave together so he'd have Jonghyun all to himself on their way home." She said this in a lovey-dovey manner which only aggravated Key's lonely and internal uproar—yes, he was pissed off at the moment because Jonghyun had not only _abandoned_ him for the second time that day, but he also hadn't even said goodbye to Key.

Kibum could comprehend him to some extent—fine, the whole restroom thing had been weird et cetera, but why should the professor give him the cold shoulder? Yet, what really knocked Kibum down was not being able to complain to Jonghyun about that since he still had to come clean with him about Key and Onew—and once again the restroom episode messed with Kibum's lies, darn.

Sigh.

"Do they always act so carelessly?" Key didn't bother concealing his scoff, however he faced the window by his side so Jessica wouldn't catch sight of the deep scowl currently creasing his features.

She shrugged absentmindedly like she wasn't truly interested in the subject; her indifference had even blinded her from Key's evident grumpiness. "Have no idea. They've been dating for just a couple of months, I think. Minho only bothered telling me it today on our way to the party." Jessica pursed her lips, clearly displeased for being kept in the dark by her friend for so long.

Her mood was lit up out of the blue, one of her hands poking briefly Key's closest shoulder in order to get his attention. The student complied with her mute request, ceasing his glaring at the smoked glass to replace the view of Gangnam's concrete jungle for a suddenly cunning Jessica, "You know, Minho told me about how he had run into professor's disciple when he and Professor Jonghyun was getting outta the men's room together."

Key was taken aback by Jessica's change of subject, but he couldn't help asking himself if she ever got tired of repeating Jonghyun's title over and over again. Man, it seemed that the professor truthfully hated Jessica calling him by any less respectful honorific.

"Minho was terrified at the idea of you finding out about their relationship; it seems that professor hasn't told him that he has already come out to you," Jessica had a reflective expression on, like she was simply telling her thoughts out loud, not really caring about the company by her side. "Anyhow, what I found interesting was that Minho was bummed out because Professor Jonghyun was bummed out—they are the kind of you-smile-I-smile couple; cute, isn't?" Jessica's opinions were all over the place and, honestly, Key wasn't quite following her.

And apparently neither was Jessica herself, "What was I saying? Oh, right! Professor Jonghyun was kinda down because he caught you with another man in the ladies' room." An amused smile played on her lips, but her eyes were unexpectedly sober.

"Look, Jessica, I—" Although Key still hadn't come up with an excuse for being with Onew in the restroom, he objected straightaway since he knew silence implied consent.

"Key, you don't have to explain yourself," Jessica outstretched her arm so her hand could land on the student's right knee, patting it sympathetically. Key's confusion started to show on his face in response to her move, yet she kept on anyway, "Your jacket gave you away." Jessica mistook Key's bewildered look for a mortified one, "Chill out, I'll keep your secret."

 _Oh, God, she knows, she knows; Jessica Jung knows I am a guy and she'll hand myself in for Jonghyun. I'm so screwed, what do I do? I should have listened to Jinki-hyung, why must that old man always be right?_ Trying his best not to let himself be disturbed by the siren ringing wildly inside his mind, Key schooled his features so he could feign ignorance, "Secret? What secret?"

"Key, I know you're a smart girl, stop playing dumb for once." Jessica withdrew her hand and leaned back on her seat; the loss of her gentle touch made her words sound even harsher, even though Key knew she didn't mean to. Still, her face was displaying a surprisingly mother-like expression, such a kind look aimed at Key's frame that he almost blushed under her gaze. "You know, you shouldn't get so worked up over something so natural. Many girls get their period at the most unfortunate times; that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Wait, what? What the hell was Jessica talking about?

"I myself, during my school days, once had to hide a period leak by tying a sweater around my waist. You're not alone, Key." _Now_ Key blushed; he blushed hard, an angry red coloring not only his cheeks, but his whole face. How should one react when your favorite artist was talking about her _period_?— _aaargh_ , Kibum grimaced at the thought alone.

Anyway, why had Jessica started to talk about _this_ right now of all times? Well, Key had indeed mentioned tampons when they met each other, but… What the heck?

"Key," Jessica called him, snapping her fingers loudly before his eyes so he'd snap out of his trance. When she noticed she finally had his full attention, Jessica lowered her hand so it'd settle down on Onew's jacket, which was still tied around Key's waist to hide his crotch.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

So that's why… That's why Jessica thought. That Key had his (her?) period.

Oh—a hundred times, _oh_.

 _Well._ Kibum wasn't the type of guy who lacked the guts to buy tampons for his girl friends; he had already done that so many times that he lost count. Yet, it was a shame he himself hadn’t come up with such a smart excuse— _but if the boot fits_ …

"Well, Jessica… This isn't something I like to talk about." Key confessed in a voice overly high-pitched due to nervousness, casting his eyes down out of shame—he might be acting, however his mortification was a hundred percent _authentic_.

"Don't get embarrassed, we're both girls, that's just fine!" Jessica grinned, clearly finding Key's flustered face funny, whereas he couldn't help finding amusing the irony behind her words. "If I may say, I think it was very cute of that songwriter—what's his name? Neil?—to lend you his jacket. Maybe he has a sister? Because guys usually get too awkward when dealing with this kind of thing..." Jessica trailed off, chin rested on her right hand as she thought out loud.

"Jessica- _unnie_ , I…" Key suddenly remembered that he should probably address Jessica more respectfully; he hoped she wouldn't mind his previous unconscious informality. "I really don't want to talk—" He cut himself off when the van came to a halt, and Jessica giggled shortly at the somewhat naive confusion displayed on Key's features.

"You've just gotten home," she had barely finished her sentence when the chauffeur slid the door open from the outside. Key looked through the open door, frowning upon seeing the apartment complex which Nicole lived in. Jessica misunderstood the doubtful look on his face, "Jonghyun gave me your address," she clarified, still speaking with a maternal tone.

Key nodded at that, standing up carefully not to hit his head against the van ceiling. When his feet touched the sidewalk, Kibum finally comprehended what had just happened. He had been almost found out, but no, he got away thanks to _period_. His legs were trembling and his hands were sweating in response to the adrenaline coursing through his veins; it had been triggered off by the thrill of nearly being caught. But he hadn't—Kibum hadn't been caught.

Key concealed his sudden relief as best as he could in order to bow to Jessica, "Thanks for everything, unnie. Hope to see you again," the last part was said out of politeness; meeting Jessica Jung wasn't something that happened twice to a person's life.

"Me too. Key, I hope you don't get cramps," she smiled kindly, the type of smile which warmed Kibum's heart, yet her words made him want to cringe in embarrassment while laughing out loud _à la Jonghyun_. Oblivious to Key's state of mind, Jessica waved at him as she showed him her perfect white teeth adorning the wide grin on her face, "And remember, your secret is safe with me!" She winked playfully at him before gesturing for the chauffeur to slide the door back.

Kibum waited for the black van to disappear from his sight before getting his cell phone in hand. He dialed a familiar number, fingers missing the keys once or twice due to the excitement of having saved his own skin successfully. "Nicole, dear, how about a pajama party?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How have you all been doing? I hope you had a great during time during the holidays (following all safety measures, of course) and that 2021 will be a better year for us all <3 Btw, who's also super excited for Shinee's comeback?


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonghyun is married to the music and Kibum is so curious, yeah!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta confess I didn't plan to update the story this month because it'll soon catch up with the last chapter I have ready, and I'll have to sit down for once and start writing where I've left from. But I just realized it's been exactly a year since I first published the prologue, so I think we should all celebrate with a fresh chapter. Enjoy reading 💙

Jonghyun leaned back on his revolving chair, eyes roaming his surroundings in boredom—he had nothing to entertain himself with because he had already prepared all lectures due to this week over the weekend. Besides, there wasn't a _certain_ black-haired girl to humor him; he had asked Key to come only in the afternoon with the intention of making up for taking over her whole Sunday with no previous notice.

Obviously, there were ulterior reasons behind his sudden kind treatment towards Key—Jonghyun needed _time_. He needed time to sort out all that had happened at the party, otherwise his big mouth would screw things up even more if he talked to Key without thinking everything thoroughly first.

First things first: Key now knew about Minho and him. The professor already suspected she had been brought up by a traditional family, however he sensed this wasn't quite a problem since she didn't look at him with disgust in her eyes after learning his sexual orientation.

Jonghyun had even put Key to the test when they were leaving the party; no, he hadn't gone home with Minho purely on a whim, though back then he had truly thrown caution to the wind since, _hey_ , Jessica and Key already knew their secret, so why hide it? (Jonghyun wasn't used to acting this carelessly; blame it on Onew's enigmatic words about him being _too young_.)

He basically wanted to know how Key would react to seeing Minho and him together out in the open, and the result had been pretty surprising and interesting—Key ended up displaying a somewhat blasé face as she got into the van with Jessica.

 _Jessica_ : she was the second matter.

Thanks to Jessica's talkative behavior, Jonghyun was a hundred percent sure she had spilled out everything to Key; _everything_ —from her days as his disciple to the lessons he'd taught her. So Jonghyun would probably have to clarify some doubts of Key's, and he felt kind of nervous at the prospect of doing so—Minho took his aversion for Jessica as a joke, what would Key think? Would she laugh at him? Would she still respect him afterwards?

Taking into account Key's naturally curious and inquisitive demeanor, she would have certainly buried Jonghyun under the thousands of questions that were clearly popping inside her head if she had the chance to talk with him; and that was why Jonghyun kept himself so distant from Key yesterday. He might be quite a smooth-talker, nevertheless he didn't know how to approach the subject, how to set things straight with the girl.

So Jonghyun had been a complete asshole and neglected Key for the rest of the day. _Kim Jonghyun, why must you always have the best ideas?_ He asked himself sarcastically.

Despite all the previous issues that were making Jonghyun equally uneasy, the third (and last one) was ironically second to none: Onew. He truly respected his sunbaenim and hyung, yet Jonghyun couldn't help staring daggers at the elder after catching him and Key together in the restroom. This still remained unexplained, however Minho had persuaded him on their way home that something personal and girly (one day Jonghyun would understand what Minho meant by _girly_ ) had happened to her.

Even though this had been a hell of a vague reasoning, Minho believed nonetheless because Jessica had told him that. And therefore Jonghyun would also believe it because he trusted Minho. Jonghyun wasn't exactly satisfied though—he didn't mind Key locking herself with other men, but… But what did Onew know about her? Had he known her for longer than Jonghyun? Did he know more about Key than Jonghyun did?

Yes, Jonghyun was acting like the perfect "macho", setting a competition with anyone who neared his belongings—only God knew where the hell this thought had come from. How moronic and mindless. And sexist. (This reminded him of his student Kim Kibum; how would the boy react if he found out his boyfriend had gotten into the ladies' room with another girl?)

He didn't know anymore where his thoughts were leading him to, and Jonghyun thankfully didn't get to find out—Minho's debut song started to blast from his cell phone out of the blue. No, Jonghyun didn't have classes in twenty minutes; he had set his alarm to the time he had assigned Key to come to his office today. Punctual as always, a knock on the door could be heard a couple of seconds later.

"Come in," Jonghyun said, rolling his eyes affectionately at the girl who had just entered the room, "I did give you that key for a reason, you know." Something in his words made Key's stance loosen up almost automatically, and the professor felt like punching himself after comprehending the reason behind her sudden relief—of course Key had spent the whole time as apprehensive as Jonghyun himself; she must have feared that he would stop teaching her after having avoided her not so politely yesterday.

Jonghyun would be lying if he said he hadn't pondered on the possibility of letting Key go; however, he came to the conclusion that it would be good for him to keep the girl around if she didn't care about his sexual orientation—she hadn't shown any homophobic tendencies yet, so everything was fine so far.

Trying to hide the lingering tension on her features, Key simply shrugged at Jonghyun's remark as she walked towards the restroom to get the broom and start her chores. "Stop," this single word of the professor's was more than enough to bring Key's footsteps to a halt, "Sit down, let's talk." Jonghyun hoped he hadn't sounded as imperative as he had in his mind. 

Key sat down without saying a word, which was something so unlike her—had she just passed up a chance to bitch about Jonghyun's bossy behavior? She looked him in the eye from across the desk as usual, yet there was a hint of dread in her gaze—Jonghyun found it a bit stupid that they were both equally troubled, but none was willing to let it show. Putting this thought on the back-burner, the professor took a deep breath before admitting at last, "I am gay."

"I know," Key simply replied, the apprehension previously present in his eyes being replaced by mild confusion as he mentally questioned where Jonghyun intended to get with his confession.

The man cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips in order to refrain himself from grinning optimistically at Key's unexpected indifference. Although Jonghyun sensed that the girl would react with identical aloofness, he still shot the next not so secret revelation, "I am dating Choi Minho."

"I know," the student repeated himself matter-of-factly.

Jonghyun allowed himself to furrow his brow as he took note of Key's unwavering soberness. "Your thoughts?" He inquired since it seemed that she wouldn't speak up unless he'd told her to do so.

Key snorted at his interrogation, as if something behind it amused him greatly, "It's your life, what do I have to do with it?" Despite his cool face, he actually felt _dead_ unburdened right now; Key had come to the office expecting Jonghyun to cut all ties with him, and in the end it looked like the professor simply wished to clear up all misunderstandings. Besides, Jonghyun's quests sounded as if he were seeking Key's approval, which he found a tad _sweet_.

"Nothing," the man answered Key's question even so he knew it had been made for the sake of rhetoric, and the student had to bite back a giggle upon seeing an expressionless Jonghyun blink uncountable times as he decided what to make of Key's complacent demeanor. "Thank you," Jonghyun said it wholeheartedly, and his heart warmed at the sight of a ghost of a smile playing on the girl's lips.

Despite that, Key frowned briefly at the man's sudden regard, "You're welcome; I don't believe that's a motive to thank someone though." Key's words sparked something inside Jonghyun; the lyricist had dealt with so many narrow-minded people in his life that sometimes he forgot there was still a levelheaded group out there. And Key was one of them, thank God—he wasn't religious, yet he felt too relieved right now to care about that.

"What else?" The student asked, interrupting Jonghyun's short-lived pondering. The eyes beautified by black eyeliner weren't demanding; Key simply knew Jonghyun wished to discuss other matters too, thus his inquiry.

The professor clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge of grimacing at their next topic, "You have talked to Jessica," he stated it in the most neutral voice he could master.

Key just nodded at his affirmative, expectant for the man's following words. However, when it was clear that Jonghyun wouldn't speak any further, the student felt this was his cue to voice one of his endless questions, "Why are you so disappointed in her?"

Jonghyun had to hold himself back otherwise he'd stare straight at Key with eyes wide open in surprise at her choice of words. The few people who had been able to perceive his dislike for Jessica thought he hated her plainly, when in reality there was _way more_ to it. It seemed that Key had caught the gist of it right away, yet Jonghyun couldn't help asking, "Did she tell you that?"

The student shook his head, rolling his eyes in a way that wasn't exactly disrespectful; a manner unique to him. "Well, I am not blind," he answered, and Jonghyun would have taken that for discourtesy if it hadn't been _Key_.

Jonghyun lowered his eyes as he contemplated how to explain the one-sided _turmoil_ nurtured by him for Jessica. Irony was his best call; after all, Key loved it, too, "You're probably expecting some sort of drama-like story, filled with angst and tragedy, right? Something about Jessica being my long-lost sister who now is thirsty for revenge after being abandoned by our family for all these years."

"Wow, oppa," only now Key allowed himself to use the honorific; earlier he had been too nervous because he thought he would be shut out by the professor, so it hadn't been a good moment to be informal, no matter how Jonghyun appeared not to mind it. "You should give up on music and become a screenwriter. KBS is hiring, did you know?"

Key had joked with the intention of easing the mood a bit since he sensed it heavy around them both, but it was to no avail for Jonghyun only gave a small smile at his wisecrack, not caring to answer it. "You know, people didn't take me seriously when I lived off lyric-writing alone; they only started to respect me after I got my master's degree. Yet there she was: Jessica." Jonghyun's eyes were somehow dreamy, so different from the loathe he displayed nowadays at the mere mention of the girl's name.

He bit his lower lip before continuing; vision clouded by old memories, "She was student here at the time she looked to me for private classes. I found it so… So pleasing that someone had expressed true interest in what I do for a living that I taught her everything I know—all the experience I had accumulated throughout the years."

A hint of letdown was coloring Jonghyun's speech little by little, and Key couldn't help it, "She turned out to be an awful artist?" His voice was anticipant, like a kid complaining that their mother was telling the bedtime story way slowly.

"I should have known you're the type who interrupts the story to guess the ending." Although his observation was one of disapproval, Key didn't miss the amused grin on the elder's lips. Jonghyun cleared his throat before resuming his monologue; soberness taking over his features, "Jessica wound up passing one of SM auditions, and she deliberately chose to throw away everything that I had taught her—she became an idol. She has everything to write her own lyrics, yet she doesn't."

Key frowned at the man's words. He was actually enjoying this very much—this dramatic side of Jonghyun's who was willing to spill everything out once and for all. However, Key hadn't quite followed the last part in particular; did Jonghyun hate idols? If so, it would be pretty hypocritical of him since he himself dated one. Still, he couldn't fight against the pleasant feeling that insisted on settling inside him—Key was reading as much as he could into Jonghyun's every gesture, every word, every face; the man was completely _bare_ before his eyes like an open book.

Oblivious to Key's meditation, Jonghyun kept on, exposing his point of view with such articulation that someone could even mistake him for a critic. "I believe that the artist must take part in as much steps as possible of music production. You need to comprehend the lyrics, you need to feel the melody, you need to express its emotions when singing..."

Understanding lit Key's features up as he finally kept up with Jonghyun's reasoning, "So idols should get to know their songs better otherwise their music will sound… Artificial?" He furrowed his eyebrows at the word, pursing his lips as he tried to find a better one.

Jonghyun noticed Key's struggle at expressing herself, "Idols are too _prefab_ nowadays," he said, and _bull's eye_ , that was the word. The professor took a deep breath before finally concluding his story, "…And that's why it took me so long to teach you properly. I'm sorry my stubbornness got the best of me and made you my Cinderella for a whole month."

Key chuckled at the reference, making a disdainful gesture with his right hand in order to tranquilize Jonghyun, "I understand you now, _I think_ —or, at least, I can relate to your logic. Being taken for granted after teaching someone so attentively for that long… That's not something we wish."

Even though Key's words were sympathetic, he still rolled his eyes at Jonghyun's inflexibility; the man had been holding a grudge against Jessica for what, two years? _He is just like an immature child_. On the other hand, this all proved how _important_ music was to Jonghyun, and Key had to admit he was a bit impressed at that.

Nonetheless, the cat wasn't fully out of the bag _yet_ , "May I ask you a question?" Jonghyun raised an eyebrow at Key's sudden politeness when addressing him, but he nodded anyway, signaling for her to inquire him.

"Why only female disciples though?" Key sounded hesitant; he had no idea how his professor would react to this—what if Kibum had overstepped boundaries by asking this? Maybe this was something he wasn't allowed to know.

Jonghyun's fingers threaded through his chocolate hair in a thoughtful motion. Truth be told, he was getting himself time to answer Key's question—should he tell her everything? Well, she had responded just fine to him being gay; she wouldn't keep herself away from him after knowing _it_ , right?

The professor let out a sigh before speaking, "I have written many lyrics that will never be sung, and you know why?" Key kept himself quiet; he knew he wasn't supposed to answer that, "Because they are about men. Do you remember those lyrics of mine, 'neomu areumdaun view'? I wrote them while thinking about Minho, but I luckily didn't let it show—I mean, a man writing about another man isn't exactly _acceptable_ here in Korea."

Key lowered his head at that, sensing that he already knew where this was going to; whereas Jonghyun had his eyes fixed to a random spot behind Key—his gaze always lost its focus when he started telling stories; Kibum had first found this a bit funny, but now it wasn't a good sign.

"I don't do it consciously; it _simply_ happens that my routine inspires me, so what I see every day kind of 'fuels' me to write lyrics. In order to force myself to write about women, I try my hardest to stay around you," Jonghyun opened a minimal, humorless smile, and the student understood that he hadn't referred to Key only, but to women in general.

"After Jessica, it didn't make any sense to keep on with these private lessons since I myself wasn't interested in that. So I decided that if I was ever going to take in another disciple, then it would a girl so, at least, I'd get something useful out of this—lyrics about women." Jonghyun's eyes regained their focus, staring intently at Key with a somewhat pleased look, "The only satisfactory 'applicant' that came my way was you."

Key lowered his eyes in mild embarrassment, "So my task is to inspire you?" Yes, after hearing Jonghyun practically speak his heart out to Key for the first time, this was the only thing that came to Kibum's mind. He didn't know how to react; his brain hadn't processed all information yet.

Jonghyun nodded, "Yes, basically."

Key might have not quite absorbed everything yet, but one thing he was sure, "Thanks for sharing, oppa," he sounded tenderer than he had intended, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

"You're welcome; I don't believe that's a motive to thank someone though," Jonghyun grinned as he quoted Key's previous words perfectly.

However, the professor's joke went unnoticed by Key as he crisped his lips in deep thought. When he spoke up, his voice had no traces of his usual wit, "Since we're clarifying everything, I'd like to say a thing. Onew and I—"

He was promptly cut off by Jonghyun, "I only told you that because I don't want any more secrets between us." Key was parting her lips to reply when the professor interrupted her one more time, "Jessica explained what happened to Minho, and he told me." Jonghyun cleared up upon taking note of a clueless Key, who blushed furiously at his remark. He found Key's flustered face way cuter than he should.

"And 'explained' should be in between quote marks because Jessica kept it as vague as possible." Jonghyun informed in a carefree tone, although there was still a hint of confusion and curiosity in his eyes. "But I won't meddle or anything; don't worry," he assured Key, outstretching his left hand so he'd pat her on one of her shoulders for a short instant.

The student was taken aback by the considerate touch, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle as he had the feeling that their talk had come to a close. "Should I start sweeping?"

A wide grin split Jonghyun's lips this time, "You can do that later." His eyes were displaying sheer anticipation, glued to Key's face while he blindly got something out of one of his desk drawers, and placed said object between them.

It was a hardcover black notebook: Jonghyun's lyrics notebook.

Key smiled so widely that his cheeks hurt.

* * *

Key was Kibum right now—he had his male clothes on, a lighter makeup on his face and a bag full of books on his right shoulder. He was crossing the campus with fast steps since his next class would start soon, yet his usual agility had been greatly affected by the thoughts buzzing inside his brain like an annoying swarm of bees. They were pleading for his attention, like _hey, Kibummie, let's get into a trance right now so you'll walk into a tree_. His mind was sadistic; what a blessing.

Kibum had actually reacted pretty well to his talk with Jonghyun, but seeing the professor so eager to teach him afterwards only made the student feel _unworthy_ of his lessons— _I don't want any more secrets between us_. When had Kibum ever been true with Jonghyun? Never. Besides, Kibum had reached the point of no return, not being able to tell truth and fiction apart anymore—he had lost himself amid his uncountable lies.

Jonghyun's confession had only increased Kibum's worries—the professor seemed to suffer due to not being able to write about what he truly wanted, and here was Kibum, lying _deliberately_. Worst of all: he had always unconsciously blamed Jonghyun for "leaving him no choice" but to cross-dress; however, now that he knew the reason behind his demand for female disciples only, Kibum couldn't help feeling even _guiltier_. He had the choice of being honest, yet he decided to do the exactly opposite— _you're fake, Key_.

And Jessica? Jonghyun hated her, yet she was a _hundred times_ better than Key—no, she wasn't better because she was an already settled idol and owned God-knew-how-much money. Jessica was better than him because she had been _honest_ with Jonghyun since day one. She might have disappointed him deeply, but she didn't hide anything from him—she wanted to be an idol, and so she accomplished it. Period.

Kibum halted his steps all of a sudden—he couldn't even imagine what people around him must be thinking; he bet his face wasn't looking its best. Whatever, he just _couldn't_ do this, he needed some _support_. Kibum fumbled around his bag until he grabbed his cell phone, dialing hastily a number he knew by heart.

"Hey, appa. Yes, I know I haven't called you guys for a while, I'm sorry. I'm too busy with..." _Acting, dancing, singing, doing homework, cross-dressing, lying, cleaning my professor's restroom._ He clenched his jaw—no way in Hell he'd say his thoughts out loud, "…I'm too busy with _stuff_." Kibum lied _again_ , "No, I'll make sure so it won't happen again. My studies are doing just fine. Hey… Are you home?" Kibum's father was home for lunch around this time of the day, but the blond was still uncertain since the man's work hours could have been changed, "Oh, you are? That's great." He opened a wide smile, "Why do I want to know that?" Kibum repeated his father's question, pursing his lips.

"It's just that…" He bit his lower lip hesitantly even though his father couldn't see him, "Appa, can I ask for something?... No, appa, it isn't money. Gee, I'm not a gold digger, you know? Sorry, sorry." Kibum waited for his father to stop his complaints so he could ask, "Well, I wanted to know if you can put Comme des and Garçons on the phone. Appa, of course I miss you more than them!" He rolled his eyes at his father's melodrama (you see, drama ran in the Kims), refraining himself from bowing at the cell phone when he complied with his son's request, "Thank you so much, appa; tell umma I love her. Heeey, Comme des, Garçons! Say hello to your appa!"

 _These are such fancy names for dogs!_ Jonghyun's loud voice all of a sudden echoed through Kibum's skull.

At least Kibum hadn't lied about _everything_.

* * *

Kibum was lunching with a couple of friends before their afternoon classes when his cell phone buzzed inside the back pocket of his jeans. _No need to come back to the office today_ , it read Jonghyun's sudden text message. He raised an eyebrow at that—how ironic fate was, eh? After his epiphany, Kibum had decided to erase Key from Jonghyun's life, to cut all ties with the professor the next time they'd see each other, and exactly then he is given more time to think and reconsider his option. Kibum bet his whole allowance that he would chicken out of his own idea until tomorrow. 

He locked his cell phone and set it by his plate, resuming his lunch as he paid close attention to his friends' conversation; Kibum wasn't really interested in taking part in it though. A buzz could be heard once more, and the student didn't bother concealing his confusion—a deep frown creased the gap between his eyebrows while Kibum read Jonghyun's next text: _actually, take the whole week off_.

He put his chopsticks away, rubbing his eyes in order to verify if it hadn't been his mind playing tricks on him. Nope, the words were still there, displayed _unchangeable_ on his cell phone screen. Something had clearly happened with Jonghyun, yet Kibum knew he'd never tell it to Key; the man might have made great progress in opening himself to _her_ , but they weren't quite _there_ yet.

Therefore, Kibum could only wish that nothing bad had happened to his professor.

* * *

Kibum got home from college to find himself all alone—great, since Jinki wasn't in he was free to take a _looong_ bath and listen to some _loud_ music. He had just placed his bag on his bed, heading for his closet to choose a set of clothes, when his cell phone started to ring nonstop.

The student got the device out of one of his bag's compartments, and a frown promptly settled on his features upon checking the caller id: _umma_. Was she going to complain that he had called appa earlier, instead of her? Maybe Kibum had indeed passed too long without contacting home; this realization weighed on his heart, a dull disappointment in himself seeping into Kibum.

He took a deep breath before sliding his finger across the screen to answer the call; he couldn't sound any less than _normal_ otherwise his mother would probably sense his mild apprehension all the way from Daegu. "Umma, how are you?"

A loud sniff could be heard from the other side, and Kibum's heart practically shattered at this sound alone. He was about to apologize for his momentary neglect when his mother finally spoke up, her quivering voice indicating that she had been crying for some time now, "He passed away, Kibummie."

Kibum never got to meet any of his grandfathers, he had no uncles nor siblings. Thus upon hearing " _he_ ", who was the first person he thought of? Appa. _No way, I just talked to him today_ … He sat down on his bed clumsily due to his suddenly wobbly legs; numbness took over his limbs as Kibum tried to ratiocinate among the somber haze of grief.

His parents were in good shape, how had that happened? Weren't only old people supposed to die? Right, once in a while young people did die in car crashes et cetera—but this always happened to _others_ , and never to Kibum himself. His father was as healthy as a horse, how could he have died? Did he have an accident? Was he murdered?

"Umma, I…" Kibum bit his lower lip, struggling to speak around the tight knot on his throat, "How did it happen?" He struggled to take in the truth—his father was _gone_. Now he was in Heaven with grandma; he would _never_ come back. What had Kibum last told him? _Thank you so much_. It was ironic how many meanings could be attained to this simple sentence: thank you so much for giving me life, thank you very much for raising me, thank you very much for putting up with me—thank you so much for _everything_.

Kibum's melancholy was cut off by an earsplitting sob from his mother. She had barely gathered enough strength to give a coherent reply, "He had lung cancer, don't you remember, Kibummie?"

 _Lung cancer? Appa didn't have_ … "Umma!" He didn't suppress his surprised exclamation, but he did hold back a relieved sigh, "You're talking about your patient…" Kibum finally processed what his mother had said—he passed away, umma's _patient_ had passed away. His mother was a nurse, and this had actually been the reason why he hadn't called her earlier in the day—his dad had no problem picking up calls in his office, whereas his mother was supposed to keep an eye out for her patient at all times, so Kibum hadn't wanted to disturb her.

Kibum suddenly felt the knot on his throat loosen up, his silent tears drying and leaving behind only plastic-like traces down his eyes to his sharp jawline. His father was alive; _appa is breathing and fine_. Yes, Kibum was awfully selfish for feeling relieved at this; after all, the man who had died was probably someone else's father, and this person should be feeling as devastated as Kibum right now.

"Of course I'm talking about my patient, Kibummie. Who else could be?" There was a hint of frustration amid her depressed voice. "I know I shouldn't ask you this, but…" She faltered, and Kibum answered with a whispered yet heartwarming _keep on_ straightaway to encourage her to talk further; he didn't want his mother to shut herself out due to deep grief. "Can you please come with me to his funeral? Your father is busy with work, and I don't believe I'm able to… All by myself…" She choked on another sob, silencing herself.

"Umma, of course I can. Please, stop crying." Kibum knew his request was useless, yet he didn't know how to deal with her sadness. He wanted to be by her side so he could hold her hands, lend his shoulder so she'd cry until there was a damp spot on his sweater. "Look, I am going now, all right? What time is the funeral?"

"A bit before midnight," his mother answered in a low, pained voice.

Kibum grimaced briefly at the time—it was already evening, and it would take him around two hours to get to Daegu… He would make it, of course, but the problem lied in getting back to his apartment in the following day so he could attend college. Luckily, at least he didn't have to worry about cross-dressing, thanks to Jonghyun's sudden holiday.

"I'll be there around 10 P.M., ok, umma? I’m gonna hang up so I'll get ready," he tried hard not to sound too rushed; cell phone in between his right shoulder and cheek while he walked around his room, looking for his most sober suit.

"Thank you, my son," there was such gratitude on her tone that Kibum felt sorry for not being able to hug her tight at this exact moment.

"Don't mention it."

* * *

Kibum ended up getting home just according to his prediction (ten o'clock sharp) thanks to a well-timed train and a vacant cab right by Dongdaegu station. He was welcomed by his father, and he couldn't help but notice the heavy dark bags under his eyes—it seemed that appa had been busier with work than Kibum had first presumed. They hugged for a brief moment and the man's gratefulness could be easily sensed in this motion, since he was now able to go to sleep because Kibum had come to take care of his mother. The blond wasn't _that_ surprised upon seeing his father get quickly back to his room right after they let go of each other.

While heading for the kitchen, Kibum took note of his dogs' unusual absence; Comme des and Garçons used to promptly welcome him whenever he got home, bouncing around his feet and making Kibum take each stride calculatedly not to step on them and provoke an accident. His questions were all answered upon walking into the kitchen and finding his mother knitting by the breakfast table; a couple of sleepy poodles sprawled around her feet.

After noticing his presence, she set her large round glasses on the table and let go of her knitting needles to stand upright; she then practically ran towards him, waking up Comme des and Garçons in the process. "Umma," Kibum whispered into her ear; right hand drawing soothing patterns across her back as he expected for her tears to come.

"Kibummie, I missed you so much… Thanks for coming despite being busy with college. I know it is selfish of me to ask you to come when you…" His mother started to babble, and Kibum knew very well what to do in this case.

"Shh," he interrupted her ramblings as politely as possible, otherwise the grip around his heart would get tighter after hearing her saying such foolish things like being _selfish_. "I'm here, umma, that's all that matters," his other free hand caressed her hair affectionately when he noticed her body shaking slightly due to her crying.

His mother raised her head to gaze straight at him; although her eyes were still teary, her look somehow had a hint of firmness. "Go take a shower; you're sweaty," she wrinkled her nose upon sniffing at the collar of his shirt, breaking off their hug so her son could go to the bathroom.

Kibum scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks at her observation, "I didn't have the time to shower before coming…" Nonetheless, he was now at ease since umma seemed to be getting better despite her apparently never ending weeping—well, she was fine enough to _complain_.

"I don't wanna hear your excuses; go, kiddo," his mother _literally_ pushed him across the kitchen's threshold and towards the hallway that led to their home's main bathroom.

Kibum took a quick shower instead of his so desired long bath (and _no way_ would he be able to listen to loud music _here_ ) and dressed up in his black suit, which was actually a pretty weird match when taking into account his pink bangs and blond-dyed hair. On his way out, Kibum spent a couple of minutes petting Comme des and Garçons; they both fought against the sleep haze in order to express their cheerfulness for being able to see their appa after so long.

They decided to go on foot since the funeral would take place at somewhere nearby; while they walked down the street, Kibum had one arm draped over his mother's shoulders for he was afraid of her catching a cold due to the chilly night, even though her frail build was already clad in a thick black shawl.

On their way, umma didn't hesitate telling stories of her late patient; "He was so funny, Kibummie. It didn't feel like work at all…" Her eyes were still glistening thanks to the tears she was holding back, "Once, he hit on a nurse who had come to his house to perform a blood transfusion. It was just a joke, of course—he was married, you see." She raised her hand before her mouth, trying in vain to suppress a sad exclamation as realization hit her, "Oh! How must his wife be feeling right now? Poor woman…"

Kibum didn't notice exactly when they got to the funeral; his mother was actually quite entertaining, and he was starting to suspect that her patient had been someone really interesting to be acquainted with. He only took note of his surroundings when his mother was lighting one of the incenses disposed on a small table close by the door they had just walked through.

Kibum waited for her to conclude her doing before asking in a whisper, "Umma, did you remember to bring money?"

She shook her head, gaze glued to the picture of her deceased patient set on the table by her lit incense, "His family asked not to; they aren't the traditional type. They didn't even bother making the body go through the three-day procedure."

"I see," Kibum replied, realizing that this was a very simple funeral indeed. The number of people was pretty small, which surprised him since his mother gave him the impression that the man had had some quite fulfilling life with plenty of kind friends. Again, this modest funeral was happening around midnight of a weekday, thus many people probably couldn't attend it due to its unusual time.

"Let's talk to his family," his mother pulled him along with her, heading for a couple of people who were having a whispered conversation among them while standing near a window.

However, before Kibum and his mother could approach them, the only man of the group seemed to notice their presence, walking away from his two relatives so he could greet them politely.

"I'm sorry for your loss," his mother said as soon as the man was within earshot, and sorrow was evident in every word of hers. She then bowed shortly, and Kibum should probably have done the same, yet he simply _couldn't_.

His eyes first fell on the woven armband wrapped around the other's right arm; its white color contrasting against the black fabric of his blazer's sleeve. Only then Kibum looked the man in the eye, and he couldn't refrain himself from opening his mouth wide in surprise—he felt his mother covertly pinch his arm, censoring wordlessly his impolite reaction.

"I'm sorry," Kibum didn't know if he was apologizing to his mother or to the mourner, "…for you loss. I didn't know my mother was taking care of your father, _Professor Kim Jonghyun_ ," he bowed as he finished mumbling the man's name, the clear shock in his voice slurring his speech slightly.

It seemed that Kibum's words had fallen on Jonghyun's _deaf_ ears since the professor didn't even bother acknowledging his presence; his eyes trained strictly on the student's mother as he offered her a small smile, "So you were my father's nurse?"

Kibum's mother nodded, aiming a sympathetic look at Jonghyun, "And it appears that you're my son's professor?" Her mild confusion made her statement sound like a question.

"Yes, I am one of Kim Kibum's professors," the man didn't even spare a glance at the youngster upon saying that, and quickly changed the subject, "Thank you very much for coming; my father used to talk greatly about you." This sort of information would usually make Kibum's mother blush, however the sadness of losing her dear patient was still too fresh in her mind, so she just nodded sadly in response once again. "My sister and my mother are back there," he pointed at the two women whom he had been previously talking with, "They wish to speak with you," Jonghyun informed hastily since he'd spotted more guests walking into the room.

"Yes, I will," Kibum's mother smiled courteously as a sign that Jonghyun could leave them to go greet the newcomers. While seeing the professor walk away from them, she turned to Kibum, "What a small world, isn't it?"

"It is indeed," he acquiesced, holding back a grimace. Coming to his professor's father's funeral was something too delicate, and knowing Jonghyun he would probably act uncomfortably around Kibum from now on since this was definitely a situation he wouldn't like any of his students to witness.

Besides, Jonghyun was behaving way more composed and businesslike than someone should at a funeral, and this irked Kibum slightly—he would have never guessed Jonghyun was _that_ serious, based on how he acted mildly carefree around Key. Summing everything up, it looked like Kibum still hadn't scored points with his professor— _great_.

Kibum was being pulled by his mother again, this time heading for the corner of the room where Jonghyun's mother and sister ( _he has a sister… Is she older than him?_ ) could be found. She introduced Kibum politely and he couldn't help taking note of both women's puffed red eyes—they seemed to be taking it harder than Jonghyun. Nonetheless, soon the four of them was shooting the breeze, talking about random subjects (such as the weather) until settling at last on the deceased's.

When his mother and Jonghyun's sister (now Kibum knew her name was Sodam and she was a _noona_ ) started sharing some quite personal stories, Kibum decided he felt too out of place to endure it, and seeing how his mother's mood had improved, he concluded she'd do just fine without his aid for some time. Therefore he excused himself to sit down on one of the white wooden chairs dispersed around the room, all alone. Now that his brain wasn't too busy coming up with replies to aimless chitchat, a very important matter had downed on him—Jonghyun.

In the end the departed man had been really someone else's father: Jonghyun's, Sodam's. Kibum remembered very well how depressed he felt at the idea that his father had passed away; the knot on his throat, the numbness in his limbs, the endless stream of tears—the thought that his father and grandmother had found each up in Heaven. Funerals saddened Kibum, regardless of his relation with the deceased—they brought up unwelcome and pained memories.

Despite that, Jonghyun had it _only God knew_ how worse than Kibum; his father had died for real, after all. How was he holding on? A quick look around the room told Kibum that Jonghyun wasn't actually there, and he frowned at the elder's absence—this might be an unusual funeral, yet he should be around to greet the guests, shouldn't he?

He stood up upon catching the sight of a somewhat hidden hallway— _maybe the restroom is that way?_ Kibum wondered as he walked towards it; he needed to splash some water on his face since he still hadn't quite gotten over his mother's previous cries. She might have now a small smile curling her lips as she talked animatedly (or as animatedly as one could in a _funeral_ ) to Sodam and her mother, yet there was a mild apprehension insisting on settling on Kibum's heart. _God, I'll never again go by that long without calling her_ ; he censured his own carelessness—he might be too busy nowadays, but he'd never be to the extent of ignoring his mother's needs and love.

The hallway had a "T" shape-like as it split into two passages; one gave way to a single white door (which Kibum presumed was a one-room restroom), and the other to a sliding door. Through its glass, Kibum could see a black metal railing adorned by a couple of simple flower pots, and some lights seemed to shine from the outside since the balcony-like structure was mildly illuminated in comparison to the dark night in the background.

Kibum didn't hesitate to head for it, squeezing himself through the narrow crack that had the sliding door slightly open. He didn't even know if he was allowed there, yet since this was a funeral, people wouldn't quite mind his intrusion, would they? Plus, the lonely and silent place was perfect to pray for the deceased's soul—how long hadn't Kibum prayed? Gee, he didn't even remember the last time he had read the Bible; he had never been this unmindful before, his life had gone completely upside-down since the beginning of the semester.

Kibum had barely stepped into the unknown place when he glued his back to the sliding door, its glass shaking dangerously for a short moment due to the sudden weight pressed against it; the blond had his hand on his chest, close to his heart. His now open-wide eyes were focused on a pensive Kim Jonghyun—he was facing the pitch-black horizon before them, elbows propped on the railing and a still sealed cigarette pack in hands. _So he has been here for the whole time_ …

Jonghyun threw a glance towards the student's direction after hearing such swift commotion, before turning back wordlessly and hiding his face from Kibum's sight; completely unfazed by the blond's sudden appearance. The message was clear ( _go away_ ), yet the youngster didn't find the strength to comply with his silent order; Kibum didn't have enough courage to leave someone in pain alone—yes, Jonghyun was in pain. His eyes might be free of tears, but Kibum was able to spot mute misery in any person, no matter how good of an actor they were.

Besides, cigarettes? Jonghyun didn't smoke and Kibum was a hundred percent sure of that thanks to Key; the man had certainly never worn smoke-impregnated clothes to the university before. Afraid of his professor developing a new addiction, Kibum didn't stop the following words from falling from his lips, "Stop it. It will be the death of you."

Jonghyun didn't look that bothered by Kibum's ungracefully butting in; gaze still aimed at the not so distinguishable view before them. _So he's the type who secretly likes to talk when he's blue, eh?_ "I know. It was my father's," Jonghyun laughed at the double meaning of his sentence; he could be either saying that the pack in his hands had been indeed his father's, or that the obnoxious habit of smoking had provoked his father's death. Both statements actually met reality.

Taken aback by Jonghyun's both enigmatic answer and inappropriate laugh, Kibum decided to give in to social convention in order to extend their conversation as much as possible, "I'm sorry for your loss." He tried to convey as much solace as he could muster up into his voice, hoping for this to be what Jonghyun needed right now.

"Well, I am not," Jonghyun blurted out, finally meeting Kibum's gaze—his was dead honest, whereas the youngster's was stunned by the man's uncaring words. Sensing the student's astonishment, he soon explained himself, "Madness, isn't it? But the old man had it coming."

Jonghyun acknowledged it was unusual to harbor this _pitilessness_ for a close relative, then. Yet Kibum couldn't help asking himself the reason behind the man's sheer indifference; maybe his father didn't approve of Jonghyun's sexual orientation? Kibum knew this very well—having nobody's support wasn't easy, and it was worse when your family distanced from you without meaning too. Some people said ignorance was bliss; Kibum believed it only offered a _convenient blindness_ which benefited only you yourself, whereas your beloved ones suffered all alone. It was no use to run away from issues; it wouldn't be _real_ life if there weren't any problems.

As he was aware that he would _hardly_ get any more personal information from Jonghyun regarding his father, Kibum decided innocent small talk wouldn't harm anyone, "I didn't know you were from Daegu." His observation sounded a bit random, and Jonghyun returned it with a mildly confused look. "You don't speak in dialect," he justified his previous remark, crossing his arms before his chest.

Jonghyun turned fully to Kibum, back against the metal railing and the dark night behind him—cigarette pack still in hands though. "Neither do you," he shot back, raising an eyebrow. "I am not. From Daegu, I mean. My father decided to live here after finding out he had cancer... Something about Seoul being too noisy and polluted?" The professor's voice was filled with doubt, and his affirmative consequently became a question. He rolled his eyes absentmindedly, "Daegu isn't exactly countryside either. Such nonsense, right?" Kibum didn't know if Jonghyun was referring to his own broken sentences or to his father's reasoning.

Kibum frowned as he tried to filter all the scattered information presented to him, "You hate him because he took your family away from you?" He could easily picture Jonghyun's father like some cartoon villain taking his wife and daughter by their arms; his lonely son being left behind since he had his job back at the university.

His dramatic phrasing had Jonghyun flashing a small yet sarcastic smile, "Actually at the time Sodam was already living here due to her husband's work. But that's a good reason; I might use it next time umma questions me on that," he had a mockingly thoughtful expression on his face.

"You're good at evading questions," Kibum narrowed his eyes, but a sincere hint of praise could still be heard in his voice.

"You're my student; you aren't in any position to judge me or inquire me," Jonghyun retorted, furrowing his brow and not bothering to conceal his annoyance at the youngster's petulance.

The blond looked at his surroundings sarcastically as if searching for something, "We're not in the classroom right now," he noted. _Your title doesn't mean anything out of uni_ ; Kibum preferred to leave this last part unsaid since he didn't know how far he could push Jonghyun when he couldn't make use of Key's charm.

"Bullshit," Jonghyun practically spat the curse filled with sudden despise, and Kibum didn't even bat an eye at that; he had always known that the elder owned a _slightly_ potty mouth. "What are you doing here?" His question was partly vague yet something in his voice told Kibum that Jonghyun wasn't talking about him coming to the funeral, but to the balcony. _Here._

"I came to pray in peace," Kibum's tone was filled with soberness all of a sudden, and his eyes rounded in dismay when his answer got a dry laugh from Jonghyun in return.

When the professor replied, he still had his head thrown backwards; eyeing the stars twinkling faintly up in the gloomy sky, "That's such a textbook answer, I'm serious."

"So am I," Kibum didn't bother hiding how hurt and insulted he felt by the man's skepticism, and his expressive murmur made Jonghyun's gaze aim attentively at his face straightaway.

"You're serious," he pointed out rather dumbly, and Kibum would have found it comfortable that Jonghyun was behaving just like he did when Key was nearby; however he was still too offended to mind that.

Kibum preferred not to reply Jonghyun's useless remark, and he started to ponder on leaving the man all by himself and go away, but he sensed this was the wrong thing to do at the moment—Jonghyun necessitated _something_ and Kibum didn't want to have his conscience burdened by guilt for having abandoned his professor when he was in need. "I don't like funerals," he confessed out of the blue in a low voice.

"Who does?" Jonghyun snorted in response, rolling his eyes.

"They make me sad," Kibum kept on, untouched by the man's sharpness. He cast his eyes down, feigning deep interest in the dying forget-me-nots placed in one of the flower pots disposed on the railing across the balcony.

"Who?" This time Jonghyun's inquiry wasn't ambiguous at all; Kibum had no problem understanding it— _who did you lose?_

"My grandmother," the blond said it in a barely audible whisper, and a lonely tear didn't miss the chance of falling from his left eye, mapping out his prominent cheekbone until pooling all alone down his sharp chin. He still remembered perfectly the view of grandma on her deathbed, voice too shaky but she managed to mutter her last words to Kibum nonetheless. _Those words_. His tears spilled at last, and he brought his hand to his face, trying in vain to wipe them off, "She passed away over four years ago and I still cry. Aren't I stupid?"

"I don't know," Jonghyun answered his question even though it had been asked for the sake of rhetoric. Kibum might be down, yet he couldn't help finding the professor's honesty a tad amusable—any other person would have comforted Kibum and told him something along the lines of _you aren't stupid_. _Of course_ Kim Jonghyun had to be different. "I have no experience whatsoever with losing people," he said this in a somewhat clueless tone.

Kibum let out a whimper louder than his previous ones, and Jonghyun's heart promptly fell at this heartbreaking sound, "Hey, don't cry…" The elder advised rather lamely, looking like a kicked puppy as he considered how to console the youngster. Jonghyun hated to witness people crying, but it wasn't due to an asshole-y reason such as _grown men don't cry_ or the like; he felt this _strong_ urge to hug the person and _cry_ too.

This had actually resulted in a couple of funny stories, like that time in which Sodam came home crying softly because her current boyfriend had broken up with her—it ended up with Jonghyun and Sodam sobbing into each other's shoulders as they shared a warm hug in the middle of their living room.

However, Jonghyun couldn't bring himself to hug Kibum since this felt inappropriate to him—it would be as though crossing boundaries that had been set for an _important_ reason, in the first place. Nevertheless, Jonghyun took tentative steps towards Kibum, placing his right hand on the blond's back in order to pat it in a (Jonghyun hoped) soothing way.

"Come here," he asked, sliding his hand upwards so it'd settle on Kibum's shoulder, guiding him gently to the railing. "Here, take this…" Jonghyun got a handkerchief out of his jacket's inner pocket, handing it to the youngster. He had brought it with his mother and sister in mind, however it looked like Kibum needed it more than them.

Kibum snickered briefly at this _gentlemanly_ gesture (did Jonghyun think he was a girl? The blond had to hold back a weak giggle at the irony), yet he didn't reject it, using it right away to wipe his tears, "Why, thank you."

The student was about to apologize for his sudden crying, when Jonghyun spoke up, "I hate my father." Hearing these words plainly was a sheer shock to Kibum; the brunet could easily notice this by the way the youngster's eyes rounded, lips slightly parted as he pondered on what to answer.

Jonghyun then took a deep breath, and Kibum would have never been able to prepare himself for the following string of confessions, "I hate my father because he got cancer when he could have easily avoided it. I hate my father because he spent so long fighting against the disease that we forgot how sick he was, so his death struck me like a lightning, when I should have actually predicted it because, _c'mon_ , it's _cancer_."

Somewhere during his talking nonstop, Jonghyun averted his gaze from Kibum's, lowering his eyes because he knew he wouldn't have said all of this if he had been staring straight at the youngster's cat eyes. Why had he told Kibum _everything_ , when he hadn't even told it to his sister? The blond gave off a trustworthy feeling, but he was one student of his nonetheless. Jonghyun considered censuring himself for such a major slip; however he didn't _truly_ regret confessing it out loud. How weird.

Yet, no sentence, no matter how magical it was, would be able to offer Jonghyun what he needed at the moment. Kibum was of no use and he acknowledged this; he wouldn't press his professor any further since he sensed the elder was at his limit. _One must always know when to step back and stop nosing_ ; he reminded himself, thus Kibum simply said, "Thanks for sharing, professor." He preferred not to point out the lonesome tear shining on the professor's cheek—Jonghyun needed some space.

The elder simply nodded at that; he too ignored his silent crying by glueing his eyes to the gloomy horizon once more, "How do you deal with the pain, Kim Kibum?" Light poles and some tall buildings helped to illuminate the dark night, though they still couldn't quite perceive each other's features for they insisted on averting gazes since they had approached too private issues.

"I _don't_ ; I have just cried before my university professor," Kibum blushed so hard that Jonghyun thought he could feel his embarrassment on his own skin. "Maybe we should focus on the good moments and comfort ourselves by presuming they led gratifying lives?" Kibum's uncertainty washed away the assurance that usually accompanied a piece of advice.

"The Bible taught you that?" Jonghyun's skepticism struck again, but he didn't sound scornful this time, only… Curious.

"Life did. When my grandma passed away… I regretted all our fights. I used to think she wasn't quite bright so I'd be better off without her, can you believe that? Generation gap blinds us." Kibum pursed his lips at the memory of his teenage self yelling disrespectfully at the elderly woman. Oh, back those days he thought he'd be free of that pair of shackles around his wrists by never seeing his grandma again. What a bitter illusion.

Jonghyun seemed to sigh out of sympathy, "Look on the bright side: you're better than me. I sort of got happy when Sodam told me the news. I mean," he was suddenly anxious to explain himself, probably afraid of Kibum judging him for his choice of words— _happy_? "He was in so much pain that I felt relieved for him not having to suffer anymore."

This was it. Jonghyun had said it—Kibum knew; he sensed this was the heart of the issue to the elder. Nonetheless, it wasn't a matter of only saying it out loud; Jonghyun had to face this, to deal with it. However Kibum wasn't the one suited for that—now was time for him to leave. "I'll pray for your father," Kibum informed with a brief bow as he backed away from the railing, leaving unsaid an _I'll pray for you, too_. "I'll leave you to your…" He had trouble finding the appropriate word, "Thoughts."

Jonghyun gave him a mere nod in return as Kibum exited the balcony, but the blond didn't mind it; the elder had told him so much already, the youngster wouldn't get greedy and ask for more since he was in no position of doing that—now _someone else_ had to take the lead.

Kibum slipped into the restroom located on the opposite end of the hallway, getting a hold of his cell phone as fast as he could. His fingers fled across the screen, typing the shortest message possible: _he needs you_. Kibum bit his lower lip unsurely as he closed the restroom door behind himself, crossing the corridor—would Minho read his text soon? It might be too late but idols did have crazy schedules so he was probably awake, right?

He was about to turn around the corner and head for the main room when he heard a standard cell phone ringtone sound throughout the place. When Kibum raised his eyes in search of the noisy device, he caught sight of Jonghyun walking along the balcony, mobile against his right ear as he whispered into the mouthpiece. The blond couldn't quite discern what was being said, yet he easily took note of the lightness in Jonghyun's voice, so unlike his previously apprehensive tone.

He might be at a funeral, but Kibum smiled gladly as he walked away.

* * *

Kibum had gotten back to the same white wooden chair from before, heart now finally at ease. He didn't have to worry about Jonghyun anymore; Minho should be comforting him just fine now—besides, the elder seemed to have gotten way better after his talk with Kibum. The blond had fulfilled the unspoken promise made to Jonghyun, too—right after sitting down, he took a moment to lower his head and mutter quietly a prayer for the man's father. He also wished for his own mother's well-being, although he had been keeping a close watch on her since he'd gotten back from the hallway and she still hadn't shown any traces of her previous deep sadness—maybe she had cried enough? Yet you never truly know that until going to bed and being all alone with your own thoughts.

However, no matter how good things seemed to have turned out, Kibum still had classes in less than eight hours and he would soon have to endure a two-hour train trip. On top of that, he could feel sleepiness seeping into him, numbing his being a limb at a time—the student was struggling to maintain his posture upright and not to let his head fall forwards out of exhaustion.

He had just groggily rubbed his eyes to keep them open when his mother approached him, a tender touch on his right shoulder, "Son, isn't it time for you to get back to Seoul?" She asked thoughtfully, indicating for him to stand up.

Kibum did so hesitantly, afraid of stumbling since he wouldn't be able to rely on the chair for support anymore, "Is the funeral coming to an end?" The blond asked, intertwining the fingers of his right hand with his mother's gently.

"Yes, it's already half past one. You're sleepy, aren't you?" The woman's free hand caressed one of Kibum's cheeks in a fond manner that warmed the youngster automatically, a trait exclusive to mothers. He simply hummed in agreement, closing his eyes as he took in her soft stroke. Yes, he had to get back to Seoul, but he would miss his mother so greatly…

Sometimes Kibum asked himself if it was truly worth it—staying away from home to pursue music. Yet every time he pictured himself standing tall on a stage, a packed audience before his eyes, Kibum knew he had made the right decision. Sacrifices had to be made; this was real life to you.

"Sorry for eavesdropping, Park-ssi…" Sodam's pleasing voice sounded somewhat ashamed as if she were regretful for interrupting their moment. "But did you just say Kibum-ssi is heading for Seoul?" Her question was followed by a pair of brown eyes aimed at them with interest.

Kibum lowered his gaze, eyeing the deceased's portrait that she had in hands before answering at last, "Yes, I have classes," he pursed his lips to express his mild dissatisfaction at this fact. "Why?" He hoped his inquiry hadn't sounded too demanding; Kibum had only asked this because Sodam clearly hadn't approached them to make small talk only.

"Jonghyun too is going there; he can give you a ride. He must leave soon, I think." This had been said in such an unsure tone that Kibum considered turning down her offer, however he sensed that there was more to it—Sodam was afraid of leaving her younger brother all by himself. She also had a knowing face on even though her voice had sounded uncertain—maybe she thought Jonghyun was leaving soon because he didn't want to get himself involved in his father's death any more than formalities asked him to? Kibum had the bad feeling that her assumption was correct.

"This would be great, wouldn't it, Kibummie?" His mother turned to him expectantly, "A car is way more comfortable than a train ride, after all."

There was no way Kibum would be able to refuse upon being stared at by those two pairs of expectant, kind eyes, "Sure, why not?" He shrugged, trying not to think too much of it—he failed miserably: _will Jonghyun get annoyed at the idea of giving me a ride? What if he scolds Sodam for giving him a task without his knowledge?_ As usual, Kibum's thoughts were as maddening as flies landing on someone's meal.

Sodam's smile was a restrained one; sadness still could be seen behind her brown eyes, "Great, I'll talk to h—oh!" She cut herself off, gaze trained on a specific spot behind Kibum and his mother, "Jonghyun, come here," she requested in her normal voice; her brother was nearby then.

Jonghyun passed by Kibum in order to stand by his sister's side, arm promptly draping over her shoulders in a gentle way, "Yes, noona?" Solicitude was clear in his stance, and he had his eyes glued to his father's portrait in Sodam's hands when he complained somehow softly, "Hey, I thought I had told you guys I'd help you!"

"Umma and I have already sorted everything out, don't sweat it," she assured him, untouched by his childish pout. Kibum refrained himself from laughing at this fraternal scene by bringing the back of his hand to his mouth. "You're going to give Kibum-ssi a ride," Sodam informed him matter-of-factly, and that was it; no room for objections or opinions. Jonghyun would simply have to comply with his sister's _order_.

Kibum blushed at her slight command, and he was about to protest when Jonghyun nodded indifferently, "Sure, why not?" Unbeknownst to him, he had just repeated Kibum's previous words; Sodam giggled briefly at that, even so the coincidence hadn't been _that_ funny. No one judged her for that though—finding delight and joy in the little things were of great help when overcoming a loss. Jonghyun faced Kibum, and the authentic politeness he had never used before when addressing the youngster was present in every word of the professor's, "Do you mind if we leave now? I'll have to come back to Daegu later in the day, so I need to go to Seoul as soon as possible."

Kibum forced himself to display a carefree face, "No problem, it's just that…" He trailed off, having just realized something, "Umma, are you going home all by yourself?"

"No, she'll be coming back in my car; right, Park-ssi?" Sodam took the lead of the conversation once more, and Kibum had to confess he found this trait of hers quite amusing and sort of cute, too.

"Oh, thank you, Sodam-ssi," the woman's gratitude was evident in each word of hers. "You're leaving already? Hug me, Kibummie," his mother turned to him with welcoming arms, and he couldn't help relishing the warmth of her embrace. "Call me later, I want to know if everything went right and you got back fine."

"Sure, umma," he whispered, chin on one of her shoulders. Kibum saw Jonghyun and Sodam walk away in order to give them some privacy, and a soft smile curled his lips, "I'll call you every day, I promise you."

"No, don't do that!" Her complaint almost sounded like a childish whine, and they both chuckled at that. She waited for their laughter to die out before resuming speaking, "I'm serious, don't call me every day. You need to study, to practice… I don't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother to me, umma," Kibum conveyed all his honesty into this single word; it was followed by a mildly strangled breath since he was holding back his tears. He gave his mother one more tight squeeze around her waist before letting go of her timidly, "I'll call you later."

"I know you will," she smiled widely for the first time tonight, and Kibum allowed his previous shy grin to crack his lips unashamedly—funerals didn't have to be necessarily gloomy the whole time, after all.

They walked hand in hand to the street; Jonghyun had parked his car just in front of the place where the funeral had happened. There he was, standing still by his SUV while saying goodbye to his sister. Kibum and his mother took deliberately slow steps not to disturb the siblings' time alone, yet the blond couldn't stop himself from overhearing Jonghyun's question when they broke off their hug, "When are you and umma going to scatter appa's ashes?" Sodam answered in such a quiet voice that Kibum wasn't able to eavesdrop any further, however he didn't mind—Jonghyun hadn't asked that out of mere curiosity, his tone had given him away. He had expressed _real_ interest in a subject regarding his father; Jonghyun wished to bid him farewell.

The professor's face was composed when Kibum and his mother finally approached both siblings, but the blond knew how good Jonghyun could act. Before Kibum's mind could drift any deeper, Sodam came into his sight, extending her hand towards him, "Goodbye, Kibum-ssi. Again, nice to meet you."

The student bowed before taking her hand in a friendly handshake, "Goodbye, Sodam-ssi," he gave a polite yet blank smile, one appropriate for the occasion.

"You can call me noona," she told him playfully, and Kibum only giggled quietly, not knowing how to answer such remark. Luckily, Jonghyun saved him from embarrassing himself by opening the driver side door, and everybody got the muted message: _let's go_. Kibum pecked his mother's cheek before getting into the SUV, mildly sad at the realization that he hadn't said goodbye properly to neither his father nor his dogs. He had also left his backpack back home; however he was fine with that since he hadn't brought his best clothes to Seoul.

Kibum had no idea what time exactly he fell asleep, but he was sure it had been very quick—he didn't even remember seeing the outskirts of Daegu through the passenger window. And by taking account the insistent and annoying hand currently tapping at his shoulder, the blond hadn't awakened now on his own. "Kibum, you're gonna hurt your neck sleeping like that. Go lie down on the backseat," a worried voice advised him sweetly.

The youngster nodded without quite grasping the words (had Jonghyun just referred to him by his first name alone?), and Kibum could hear a tongue being clicked in impatience after a minute passed by and he was still glued to his seat, cluelessness evident in his features. The elder simplified his message then, seeking to be understood by the drowsy student, "Kim Kibum, backseat."

Upon being called by his full name, Kibum tsked and Jonghyun raised his eyebrows in both surprise and confusion at the blond's response. However, this time it seemed that he had gotten what the professor meant, for he opened his door and stumbled shortly on the road until reaching the handle of one of the back doors.

A sleep drunk Kibum plopped down on the backseat heavily, having some difficulty closing the door afterwards. Jonghyun waited silently for his commotion to end, and the youngster would have thought the elder was mad at him if he hadn't seen the professor's smiling reflection on one of the car's mirrors.

The second time Kibum opened his eyes, he did it willingly—a sudden freezing breeze had just blown into the SUV, and the student woke up to curl himself inwardly with the intention of shielding his body from the unexpected cold. Kibum would have soon gotten back to sleep if it hadn't been for his curiosity—where the hell had that wind come from?! Forcing his eyes to open widely and fighting against his currently hazy vision, Kibum might still be a bit drowsy, yet he surely recognized the object Jonghyun had just thrown through the opened driver window.

A cigarette pack.


End file.
